! 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS,. 



UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 



BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCH. 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



t« 



Mothek Maegaeet Maey Hallahan, 



O. S. D. 



ABRIDGED FROM HER LIFE. 







NEW YOEK: 

THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY, 

9 WARREN STREET. 

1871. 

ft' 



3X4105 






CONTENTS. 



CHAP. PAGE 

I. BIRTH AND EARLY TEARS, 1 

II. LIFE IN BELGIUM, 15 

HI. COVENTRY, 37 

IV. COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY, . . 61 

V. REMOVAL TO BRISTOL, 73 

VI. CLIFTON, 88 

VII. FOUNDATION AT LONGTON, 101 

VIII. ST DOMINIC'S CONVENT, STONE, .... 121 

IX. HER FAITH AND DEVOTION, 154 

X. COMMUNITY LIFE, 166 

XI. VISIT TO ROME, 192 

XII. LAST FOUNDATIONS, 205 

XIII. HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH, . . . .226 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

OF 

MOTHER MARGARET HALLAHAN. 

CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

Margaret Hallahan was born in London, of Irish 
Catholic parents, on the 23d of January 1803. Her 
father, Edmund Hallahan, belonged to a family which 
occupied a respectable position in society, but, owing 
to a long series of misfortunes, he himself had sunk 
in life, and found himself at length obliged to main- 
tain his family by humble labour. The maiden name 
of his wife was Catherine O'Connor; her family were 
all pious Catholics, and one of them, Father John 
O'Connor, was a Dominican, and lived to an advanced 
age in the convent at Cork. Margaret was their only 
child, and the idol of her father, of whose indulgent 
affection she always retained a lively remembrance. 
She inherited the warm religious instincts of her 
mother, and manifested them with a certain childish 
impetuosity, prostrating and putting her forehead to 
the ground in prayer, and indulging in other exterior 

A 



2 BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

demonstrations of piety, which sometimes drew from 
her mother the warning words, " Little saints make 
big sinners." 

Her education began at the school established at 
Somers Town by the celebrated emigre priest, the 
Abbe* Carron. Here she attended as a day-scholar, 
and one of her earliest recollections was the affection 
with which her father was accustomed every day to 
meet her on her return from school, always bringing 
her a little cake, or some similar present. Few as are 
the anecdotes that have been preserved of her child- 
hood, they are not a little characteristic. She was 
only eight years old when the Jubilee of King George 
III. was celebrated, on which occasion her parents 
took her to St James's Palace, which on that day was 
thrown open to the public. Most of the visitors 
who thronged the royal apartments satisfied their 
loyalty and their curiosity in a truly English manner, 
by sitting in the king's chair, but when Margaret was 
invited to do the same, she stoutly refused, though 
her mother persisted, and afterwards punished her 
for her refusal, which arose, as she afterwards ex- 
plained, from a certain feeling that it was only a 
sham sort of honour, which she could not endure. 
Moreover, the grandeur of the state apartments did 
not greatly affect her ; they fell far short of what her 
lively imagination had pictured as worthy of a king's 
palace, for at eight years old the child of poverty had 
already within her ideas of lofty magnificence which 
were not easily satisfied. Her passionate temper was 
at that age under little restraint, and on the evening 
of the same popular holiday, she described herself as 
" dancing about in a passion, and pulling her own 



BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 3 

hair/' because her parents refused to take her out to 
see the illuminations. 

Her father's death took place in the year following 
this little incident. Her mother being now left in 
yet more embarrassed circumstances, the Eeverend Mr 
Hunt, a charitable priest of Moorfields, procured the 
admission of the child into the Orphanage attached to 
the Somers Town establishment, where she remained 
until her mother's death. The whole period of her 
school-life did not exceed three years, and closed 
when she was but nine years of age. By that time 
she had gained the remarkable skill as a reader which 
she retained through life ; but in other respects her 
school-training was very imperfect. She was never 
able to master the mechanical art of ciphering, but 
she acquired a taste for reading, which at a later 
period she gratified by devouring every book that 
came in her way. Her lively and impulsive nature 
did not very readily submit to the strict discipline 
enforced in the Somers Town Orphanage, and her 
frequent infractions of the law of silence sometimes 
got her into trouble. On one such occasion she was 
kneeling at the outer gate by way of penance, when 
the Abbe Carron himself entered, and was about to 
introduce some visitors. Perceiving the confusion 
of the little delinquent, he good-naturedly signed for 
her to rise and retire unobserved, then patting her 
kindly on the head, he said, in a deprecating tone, to 
her mistress, " You will see, she will be good by and 
by." If her progress in secular learning was limited 
during her three years of school-training, she never- 
theless profited much by the solid religious instruction 
which she received at Somers Town. It was here that 



4 BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

Margaret's susceptible nature received its first religious 
impressions, among which must be noted that lively 
sense of the Divine presence which never afterwards 
forsook her. She was accustomed to trace this feeling 
to the effect produced on her soul by a representation 
of the ever-watchful Eye of God, which was painted 
in a triangle, after the French fashion, over the high 
altar in the church. Margaret's childish imagination 
readily endowed the painting with life ; she believed 
it to be the veritable Eye of God, and observed, with a 
sensation of awe, that in whatever direction she moved 
it appeared to follow her. 

Scarcely six months after her fathers death her 
mother followed him to the grave, a victim to the 
same fatal malady. She died in St George's Hospital; 
and thus at the age of nine years Margaret was left 
in the desolation of complete orphanhood. At the 
same time, a change in the arrangements of the Somers 
Town Orphanage led to the dismissal of as many of the 
children as were supposed to have any independent 
means of support, and among these Margaret was, from 
some cause, included, although, in point of fact, desti- 
tute alike of friends and resources. The good priest 
who had before interested himself in her favour, how- 
ever, again came to her aid, and placed her in service, 
where she appears to have remained for two years. 
At the end of that time she was, through the kindness 
of Mr Hunt, received into the family of Madame 
Caulier, wife to a French emigrant of good birth, who, 
like many others in like circumstances, had been 
compelled to embark in trade, and had opened a lace 
warehouse in Cheapside. 

Madame Caulier continued to retain her in her 



BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. ' 5 

family for several years, and became warmly attached 
to her. She failed not to appreciate the rare qualities 
which were early discernible in her protegee ; but at 
the same time she treated her with excessive harsh- 
ness. The faults which drew forth her corrections 
were generally untidiness or careless breakages ; but 
the severity with which they were visited increased 
the evil, for Margaret became so nervous, that if she 
met her mistress when she was carrying anything 
fragile in her hands, she was almost sure to let it drop 
from very fear. She never entirely lost the effects of 
this treatment, so that to the last there mingled with 
her high and independent spirit a certain character of 
timidity. She has frequently said that as a girl she 
never entered the presence of her mistress without 
trembling, and expecting a sharp correction. She 
used to wonder how a person otherwise so charitable 
and devout could show so much severity to a child ; 
and, deeply sensible of her desolate position, she 
would say to herself, in the midst of her troubles, 
" When I take in little orphan children I will do all 
I can to make them happy ; they shall never have to 
regret their parents as I do mine." 

This conduct on the part of Madame Caulier was 
far from being the result of any real want of affection. 
She had the intention of adopting Margaret as her 
child, and, in a manuscript memoir which she dictated 
at a later period, she attests the admiration and 
esteem with which the character of the young girl 
secretly inspired her. "I knew well enough/' she 
writes, " that she was far fitter to be a queen than a 
servant." And she adds, that when in doubt on any 
point she always contrived to get her advice, and 



O BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

generally followed it. She carefully instructed her 
in all household matters, and nursed her tenderly in 
her frequent sicknesses ; and it was from her that 
Margaret acquired the skill she so often afterwards 
displayed in discharging the same charitable office 
towards others. Considering her rather in the light 
of a child than a servant, she would not suffer any of 
the young people in the warehouse to address her as 
" Peggy, " and evinced her fondness by the care she 
took in having her well dressed. But whilst thus 
gratifying her own tenderness, she was careful to 
screen the object of it from any temptation to vanity, 
by repeatedly telling her she was an "ugly little 
thing. " Margaret did her best to believe it, but was 
wont to admit that she did not always feel able 
to agree with the judgment of her mistress on this 
point. 

Some of the anecdotes related in the memoir spoken 
of above are too characteristic to be omitted. Mar- 
garet was one day sitting in the kitchen with a servant- 
girl older than herself, who sometimes undertook to 
give her religious instruction. On this occasion their 
conversation was on the duty of making restitution. 
" You know," said her companion, " that if you were 
to see another steal, and the person who committed 
the theft did not make restitution, you would be bound 
in that case to make restitution yourself." For some 
days after this, Margaret was observed to be unusually 
thoughtful. At length one day Madame Caulier called 
her, and giving her a quantity of old newspapers 
which were lying about the house, told her she might 
take them and sell them. Margaret took the news- 
papers, saying to the servant, " Now I will brave 



BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. J 

Madame Caulier's anger; I will go and make restitu- 
tion." Accordingly, having sold the papers, she 
bought with the money some tea and sugar and a 
bottle of rum. With these things in her hand, she 
went to the house where she had formerly been in 
service, and going down on her knees before the mis- 
tress, she said, " If you please, ma'am, I am come to 
make restitution." " How, Margaret ? " was the 
reply ; " I am sure you never did anything that was 
wrong ; what does all this mean 1 " But Margaret 
only repeated that she came to make restitution. At 
last, being pressed to explain herself, she acknow- 
ledged that she had once seen a fellow-servant take 
these articles and give them away, and that having 
learned her duty in such a case, she thought herself 
bound to make restitution. On another occasion 
several things had been missed in the house, and sus- 
picion fell on one of the servants. Margaret was 
convinced of the girl's innocence, and being much 
distressed to see her suffering under the unjust charge, 
she resolved if possible to clear up the mystery. One 
day her voice was heard vehemently calling out for 
help ; every one ran to the spot, and found her strug- 
gling with a man whom she firmly held in her grasp, 
exclaiming, as they entered, " Here is the thief; Jane 
is innocent ! " It then appeared that for several days 
she had set herself to watch for the thief, concealing 
herself for the purpose under a bed, and as soon as he 
appeared, she sprang out and secured him. 

Another incident related by her mistress reveals 
the germ, of that tender compassion which she always 
cherished for those who had fallen into distress from 
a better position, and who were solitary and friendless 



8 BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

in the world. A young relative of Madame Caulier's 
had been staying in the house, and whilst there became 
seriously ill. Madame Caulier, who was in the habit 
of talking over all her affairs with Margaret, mentioned 
her intention of sending this young person home, but 
Margaret entreated her not to do so. " When people 
are left to servants, as she would be," she said, " they 
often suffer much from neglect;" and she concluded by 
begging that the young lady might remain in their 
house, promising to take the entire charge of her, and 
to attend on her day and night. 

These generous qualities of heart were mingled 
with the impulses of a strong and passionate nature, 
and it was thought necessary, on account of certain 
childish faults, to defer her First Communion, which 
she made at length on the Feast of the Assumption, 
but in what year is not known. She felt the delay 
poignantly, and the great day of her First Communion 
left a deep impression on her soul. She described 
herself as being at this time lively and impetuous, and 
unable to resist the impulse of " saying everything 
out." She was naturally cheerful and merry, much 
fonder of reading than of needlework, somewhat un- 
tidy, a fault that was afterwards thoroughly corrected ; 
and of a passionate temper, but with such warm in- 
stincts of liberality, that, to use her own expression, 
she was often "a thief for the poor." She used to 
give away whole loaves to the charwoman, and in 
spite of Madame Caulier's severity with her in other 
respects, she never made this a subject of blame, for 
she was herself most charitable to the distressed. 

As time went on, the discomforts of her situation 
became so unendurable, that, when not more than 



BIR TH AND EARLY YEA RS. 9 

twelve years old, she resolved to escape from them by 
running away, and seeking another service. She put 
her plan into execution, and in her simplicity and 
ignorance of the world, set about to find a situation, 
knocking by turns at all the doors in one of the streets 
of London, and asking if any one within were in want 
of a little maid. In this way she came at last to a 
hotel, when the mistress, perceiving her forlorn con- 
dition, kindly took her in, and kept her to assist in 
her own nursery, not allowing her to serve the guests. 
She did not remain here long, for Madame Caulier, 
alarmed at her disappearance, had her publicly cried, 
and on discovering her retreat, took her home again, 
and for a time treated her with greater forbearance. 
When about thirteen she again entered service, and 
this time in a Protestant family, where for two years 
she was unable to hear Mass, and had much to suffer 
from her fellow-servants, especially from one person 
who was a professed infidel. On one occasion this 
wretched man, after declaring, in blasphemous terms, 
that there was no God, in proof of his words, solemnly 
called on God, if He really existed, to strike him dead 
on the spot. In what manner Margaret may have 
behaved on this occasion we have no means of know- 
ing ; but when at another time the same person (as it 
w r ouid seem) ventured to speak disrespectfully of the 
Blessed Virgin in her presence, her rejoinder was 
sufficiently emphatic. Having no words ready at the 
moment with which to reply, she used a weightier 
argument, and seizing a large plate, broke it over the 
scoffer's head. She never concealed her religion 
through human respect, and was remembered in the 
family by the title of " the little maid that would not 



10 BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

eat meat on Fridays." On leaving this situation 
she returned for a time to Madame Caulier, whose 
real kindness is sufficiently proved by the fact, that 
she always allowed Margaret to consider her house 
as her home. But before long she again entered 
service in a family where a painful trial awaited her. 
The master of the house so far forgot himself as to 
offer an insult to the poor servant-girl who should 
have claimed his protection. Margaret's modesty was, 
however, defended by her own firmness and courage. 
Seizing a knife, she threatened to kill the intruder if 
he did not at once leave her presence ; and the deter- 
mination of her manner effectually compelled him to 
obey. After this she at once returned to Madame 
Caulier, and did not again leave her protection until 
placed by her in the family of Dr Morgan. 

During these years she had no opportunity of 
carrying on her education, though she took every 
means of gratifying her taste for reading. She always 
represented herself as having relaxed at this time from 
her habits of early piety, and was accustomed to speak 
of this season of spiritual declension, and particularly 
of her habits of indiscriminate reading, in terms ol 
bitter, and probably exaggerated, self-reproach. It 
was during the latter portion of her residence with 
Madame Caulier that the seeds were laid of that pain- 
ful affection of the spine from which she continued to 
suffer at intervals throughout the remainder of her 
life. It was caused, in the first instance, by an im 
prudent feat of strength. Possessed of extraordinary 
muscular power, she was rather proud of hearing her- 
self called "as strong as Samson;" and when about 
seventeen, seeing some men hesitate to lift a great 



BIR TH A ND EA RL Y YEA RS. II 

iron stove, she thought to put them to shame, and 
carried it unassisted to the top of the house. But 
this achievement cost her dear : her back was severely- 
strained, and two years later the injury was further 
increased by an accidental fall. From that time she 
became subject to the formation of lumbar abscesses, 
which caused excruciating agony, and rendered all 
bodily exertion painful. 

It appears to have been about the year 1820 that 
Madame Caulier recommended her to the service of 
Dr Morgan, who had formerly filled the post of 
physician to King George III. He was an invalid, 
and Margaret, who possessed remarkable skill in the 
management of the sick-room, was engaged to attend 
on him in his declining years. At his death he left 
her a legacy of £50, and she continued to reside first 
with his son, and afterwards with Mrs Thompson, his 
married daughter. Under this lady's roof Margaret 
remained for twenty years, of which ^ve were spent 
partly in London and partly at Margate, and the 
remaining fifteen in Belgium. She was intrusted 
with the care of the children of the family, but she 
soon won so much of the love and confidence of her 
mistress as to be regarded by her far more as a friend 
than as a servant. 

Mr Thompson held the office of Secretary to the 
Mexican Commission, and was at this time absent on 
an official visit to Guatemala, whither he had been 
sent by the late Mr Canning, to report on the state 
of the Central Republic ; and during the two years 
that elapsed before his return, Margaret was a great 
comfort and support to his wife. In her devotion to 
the interests of the family she altogether forgot her 



12 BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

own; indeed, the disinterestedness of her character 
inspired her at all times with a kind of repugnance to 
receive payment for her services. How far this feeling 
was carried may be judged by one anecdote. Soon 
after Dr Morgan's death, Margaret being then in his 
son's house, requested, with some hesitation, that she 
might be given a trifling sum of money for her neces- 
sary expenses. As it was known that Dr Morgan's 
legacy had shortly before been paid to her, some sur- 
prise was expressed at her being so soon in want of 
money, and she was pressed to explain what she had 
done with it. At first she was unwilling to say, but 
at length admitted that she had expended the whole 
sum in Masses for the soul of her deceased bene- 
factor. She used to relate that once when a gentle- 
man offered her some money, she was so indignant 
at his supposing that her services had been rendered 
with a view to remuneration, that she threw the 
money after him into the street. Another gentleman 
having been on a visit to the house, gave her, on 
leaving, a small sum as a present. Margaret was 
unaware of this common custom, and fearing lest the 
giver might have had some bad motive in making 
this offering, she ran after him with the intention of 
returning it. He had already quitted the house and 
got into his carriage, but she contrived by running to 
keep the carriage in sight till it stopped at his door, 
and not being in time to put the money into his hand, 
she laid it down on the door-step and returned home. 
At Margate, she performed another extraordinary 
feat of muscular strength. She assisted at the death- 
bed of a man, who was a near relative of the Catholic 
priest. When he died, finding the poor widow was 



BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 1 3 

too timid to touch the corpse, she lifted it alone, and 
carried it without help to the room where it was to 
be laid out for burial. 

Her first attraction to a more interior and strictly- 
religious life began during her residence at Margate. 
The person who at that time lived with the family as 
nurse was Mrs Collishaw, an excellent and pious 
Catholic of gentle birth, who, having married beneath 
her own rank, had been cast off by her relations, and 
reduced to enter service. Margaret often spoke of 
the strong impression made on her soul by seeing 
this good friend weeping over her sins. It was by 
her advice that she sacrificed her passion for secular 
reading. " I never learnt to know God," she would 
say, "till I gave up my taste for reading; often I 
prayed that I might forget everything I had ever 
learnt, and know but Him alone, and I think He has 
heard my prayers/' So great was the veneration 
that she felt for her friend, that afterwards at 
Coventry, whenever she received a letter from her, 
she used to kiss it, and lay it on her head before 
opening it. Her religious sentiments were further 
deepened by a visit which she paid at this time to 
the convent at Winchester, whither she accompanied 
one of the daughters of the family whom she was 
taking to school. It was in the chapel of this con- 
vent that she first became conscious of a vocation to 
the religious life, and from that time she seems to 
have adopted a method of life, and even a style of 
dress, indicating that, in heart at least, she had re- 
nounced the world. One of her oldest friends thus 
describes her manner and appearance at this period : 
— " I was but five or six years old when dear Mother 



14 BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 

Margaret used to come to our house with the Thomp- 
sons ; and all that I can remember is that we used to 
hail her appearance in the nursery with delight. The 
servants in the house felt the greatest respect for her ; 
and my brother Francis says, that he well remembers 
one of them saying that she was fitter far to be in a 
nunnery than a nursery ; and how, as a boy, he could 
not understand why she always dressed in black, and 
wore such a strange-looking cap. We were also much 
shocked at their calling her Peggy, for our nurse used 
to tell us that nicknames were bad words." 

The familiar name which Dr Morgan had been 
accustomed to bestow on his favourite attendant had 
been retained by his daughter's children as a term of 
affection. As for the black dress and strange-looking 
cap, they had not been adopted without a motive. 
Margaret, in her youth, possessed unusual personal 
attractions, of which, in spite of good Madame 
Caulier's precautions, she could hardly remain al- 
together unconscious. Even in her later years she 
retained traces of that noble beauty and that extra- 
ordinary dignity of manner which always left the 
impression that she was one of nature's queens. 
These personal gifts often drew on her a kind of 
admiration exceedingly repugnant to her, and to 
which she manifested her dislike with characteristic 
impetuosity. When one visitor at the house thought 
fit to address her some foolish compliment, she rejected 
his advances with so sound a box on the ear that he 
retreated, and complained to the mistress of the house 
that " Peggy had a heavy hand, and had used it in 
return for his civilities." The circumstance of another 
person having sought her in marriage determined her 



LIFE IN BELGIUM, I 5 

on putting an impassable barrier between herself and 
the world by taking a vow of chastity. She made it 
when about twenty-tw T o, "kneeling on a kitchen- 
chair ; " and it was probably after this event that she 
adopted a style of dress intended as the outward 
token of her having renounced all prospects of worldly 
settlement. 

One of her peculiar characteristics was a great dis- 
like of strangers and strange places. When, therefore, 
on Mr Thompson's return to England, it was first 
proposed that the family should remove to Belgium, 
and Margaret was pressed to accompany them, she 
was in great trouble. She thought she should never 
get reconciled to such a change, and nothing but her 
affection for the children at last overcame her reluct- 
ance to leave England. The removal to Bruges took 
place in the year 1826, when Margaret, then in the 
twenty-fourth year of her age, found herself for the 
first time in the atmosphere of a Catholic country. 



CHAPTER II. 

LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

The scenes in the midst of which Margaret was now 
placed were a new life to her. Keenly susceptible to 
all that was beautiful or magnificent, her soul awoke 
to a new sense in the churches of Belgium, where, for the 
first time, she beheld the solemn offices of the Church 
performed with becoming splendour. New as it was, 
however, she was so thoroughly endowed with the 
capacity of appreciating the church ritual, that all in 



1 6 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

which she now took part, whilst it excited within her 
a kind of rapture, appealed to instincts of which she 
had been conscious from childhood. " The first time 
I heard a military Mass at Notre-Dame," she said, 
" I thought I should have gone crazy." The house in 
which the family resided was not far from Notre-Dame, 
and on the first great feast of Our Lady that was cele- 
brated after their arrival, which happened to be that of 
the Assumption, she witnessed one of those exhibitions 
of popular devotion to which English eyes were then 
totally unaccustomed. "When she saw the entire popu- 
lation taking part in the gorgeous procession, she felt 
like the Queen of Saba in presence of the magnificence 
of Solomon : " there was no more spirit in her." " I 
felt," she said, "that I must go to bed and die." 

There were at that time but two confessors in 
Bruges who received confessions in English, of whom 
one was M. Versavel, under-pastor of the Church of 
St Walburga, and afterwards confessor to the great 
Beguinhof, a man of remarkable piety and spiritual 
discernment, but who bore the reputation of being ex- 
ceedingly severe in his method of direction. Margaret 
placed herself in his hands almost immediately on her 
arrival in Bruges, and remained his penitent for more 
than fifteen years. In spite of the rigorous discipline 
to which he subjected her, Margaret was never induced 
to seek for gentler guidance. If she brought him the 
same fault twice over, he sharply reproved her, and 
once kept her eight weeks from Communion. " It 
was a good thing for me/' she said, in relating the 
circumstance, "and broke many bad habits." She 
always spoke with gratitude of what he had done for 
her soul. " I owe everything to him," she said, on 



LIFE IN BELGIUM. 1 7 

receiving the intelligence of his death, as she lay on 
her own deathbed ; " I was just on the turn when I 
fell into his hands, wavering whether I should give 
myself to God or the world. I don't know what 
would have become of me but for him." 

The immediate effect of his direction was to re- 
awaken in her soul that attraction to the religious life 
of which she had already been partially conscious, 
and which now made itself so strongly felt as to 
determine her on making trial of her vocation as a 
lay sister in the English Convent of Augustinians at 
Bruges. In compliance with her urgent request, Mrs 
Thompson obtained for her the first vacancy, but the 
result was a disappointment, and within a week she 
was once more installed in her former position in Mrs 
Thompson's family. 

The failure of this first trial of her religious vocation 
was far from diminishing that ardour in the service 
of God which had moved her to make the experiment. 
The manner of life which she now embraced recalls 
some of those pages in the life of St Catherine of 
Sienna, which depict that holy virgin discharging the 
humblest domestic duties, whilst, at the same time, 
she was constantly seeking for fresh objects on whom 
to pour forth the treasures of her charity. Unfortunate 
commercial speculations having straitened the circum- 
stances of the family, and obliged them to reduce 
their establishment, Margaret's position became every 
day one of greater labour and responsibility. For 
many years she discharged the chief part of the do- 
mestic service, and by her energy and devotedness 
sustained the spirits of all around her. For herself, 
she was supported by higher motives than even her 

B 



1 8 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

generous affections. She saw in the state of servitude 
a hidden grace which would have led her to embrace 
it even if not called to it by providential circumstances. 
u The state of servitude," she once said, "is a very 
holy state. It is so hidden and ignored, so full of 
self-sacrifice that is never considered. God has 
appointed it otherwise, or else I should have chosen 
it in preference to any other state." These words 
reveal to us something of the spirit in which she ful- 
filled her daily duties, and the religious light in which 
she regarded them ; while we gather from a passage 
in one of her letters, that neither their number nor 
their laborious character were suffered to distract her . 
from prayer. " I was more recollected," she writes, 
" and made more aspirative prayer in the kitchen than 
anywhere else. I think Our Lady taught me to cook, 
for I always invoked her and my angel guardian when 
I was cooking the dinner." Besides her discharge of 
these household offices, she nursed more than one 
member of the family through dangerous sickness : the 
youngest child, wdio died in infancy, was tended by 
her to the last, and baptized by her hands ; and by 
her close attendance on its mother during a tedious 
rheumatic fever, her own health became seriously 
affected. In a moment of urgency she undertook a 
journey to England to settle some pressing affairs of 
the family, crossing over to Margate one day and re- 
turning the next. During the Eevolution of 1830, 
she was left alone at Bruges, in charge of the children, 
whose parents were absent in England, and underwent 
much anxiety and suspense during the alarming crisis. 
Amid all her labours and anxieties, her generous 
solicitude for those whom she loved as her own chil- 



LIFE IN BELGIUM, 1 9 

dren enabled her to make every sacrifice ungrudgingly. 
Her bodily sufferings were often acute, aggravated by 
the severe austerities which she habitually practised. 
In familiar conversation with one of her religious, she 
once admitted that she had done much more in the 
way of penance when living in the world than she 
had been able to do after entering religion. A friend 
has described her at this time as frequently washing 
down the stairs, wearing all the time a rough hair- 
shirt. The rigour of her exterior penances becoming 
known to her confessor, he sent her to the Teresian 
nuns, and desired her to follow their prudent and ex- 
perienced direction on this point. " They distrusted 
me at first," she said, "but afterwards they explained 
to me all their practices." Domestic cares and austere 
penance did not, however, fill up the whole of her life. 
Her active labours of charity were on so large a scale 
as to make her name known throughout Bruges. 
Considering how humble was her position, and how 
small her resources, it appears incomprehensible how 
she contrived to do all she did. But hers was one of 
those characters that create for themselves channels 
of action from their own innate force and greatness. 
Even her imperfect knowledge of the Flemish language 
was not suffered to be an obstacle in the way of her 
charities. She used constantly to visit St John's 
Hospital when residing in that parish, and though 
unable to converse with the sick, she used to take 
them cakes, and other little dainties, and was known 
among them by the name of The Black Vrouiue and 
The Rich Deba. 1 She continued her visits to the 
hospital after removing to St Anne's Quai, walking 
1 i.e., Devout woman. 



2 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

thither daily in spite of the distance, to attend a man- 
servant formerly in the Thompsons' service. She 
was also in the habit of begging for some of the poor 
convents, and used to take fresh rolls to the Poor 
Clares, and entreat the nuns to eat them. Even the 
poor ecclesiastical students shared her bounty. A 
friend visiting Bruges, in the service of an English 
family, was invited to accompany her on an expedition 
to the seminary, and wondering what could take her 
thither, her surprise was not diminished on hearing 
that she always contrived before vacation time to 
furnish the students who had no friends with pocket- 
money or little necessaries. What her own slender 
means did not supply for these charities, she procured 
by begging from her friends, both in Bruges and Eng- 
land. She wrote to one, entreating her to send some 
cast-off wearing apparel fit for the use of ladies, which 
she designed for a family of respectability, whose 
pecuniary losses had obliged them to leave England. 
"I believe," writes Mrs Thompson, "that while with 
me, she gave all she had to the poor, and that she 
spent much time in instructing the ignorant and 
visiting the sick. Persons also came much to see her." 
Another member of the family, writing since her 
death, confirms this account, and declares that as 
soon as she received any money she gave it to the 
churches or the poor. Her zeal for the adornment of 
God's house already suggested wishes which, at that 
time, seemed impossible to be realised. " When I 
saw brass lamps hanging in the church of St Gudule 
at Brussels," she said, " I used to promise our Lord 
that I would some day give Him silver ones; and 
then I would laugh at myself, for at that time I had 



LIFE IN BELGIUM. 2 I 

not a penny." She afterwards had a scruple whether 
she were not bound to fulfil this promise by presenting 
such ornaments to this very church. As to making 
any provision for her own future wants, it was a 
thought that never occurred to her, until M. Versavel, 
seeing her profuse liberality, obliged her to pay into 
his hands a portion of her annual wages, which he 
kept for her in reserve. 

Her life of charity was sustained and invigorated 
by prayer. Every morning she rose at four and 
heard an early Mass in the Church of St James, where 
her customary kneeling-place is still pointed out by 
the people, who, to this day, call it u Margarita! s siveet 
corner" When she read in the life of Marie Eustelle 
of her being so often found waiting outside the church- 
doors in the early mornings, the incident recalled many 
similar recollections of her own. " I have often stood 
outside St James's Church saying my prayers before 
the doors were opened," she said, " and happy too I 
thought myself to be there." Returning home after 
completing her devotions, she applied herself to her 
household duties ; and when she had attended to the 
wants of the family, devoted the remainder of her 
time to visiting the churches, the convents, or the 
poor. The extent of her charitable labours, can best 
be estimated by the lasting memory they have left 
behind them. "When I visited Bruges, after she 
first came to Coventry/' writes the Right Reverend 
Bishop Ullathorne, "I found the whole city full of 
her fame. People of all classes, from the poor 
to the bankers, came to inquire after her. Her 
name introduced me to every one. The clergy and 
superioresses of convents spoke of her with warm in- 



22 LIFE IN BELGIUM, 

terest. ■ I was inquiring my way in the streets of a 
man of decent appearance, and as he accompanied 
me, I asked him if he had known Margarita ; he told 
me she used to visit him and be kind to him when 
sick in the hospital. I asked an old woman who was 
praying in the Church of St James where Margarita 
used to kneel ; she at once walked up to a pillar in 
front of the statue of the Mater Dolorosa, and, point- 
ing to a spot behind it, said, in a knowing whisper, 
' She used to kneel there.' And the people of Bruges 
spoke not only of her goodness and kindness to every- 
body, but also of her power of giving freedom of heart 
to scrupulous persons." 

This account is fully corroborated by the evidence 
of those who were eye-witnesses of her daily habits. 
Visitors from England, after they had stayed a while 
in Bruges, expressed themselves astonished at the 
extent of her influence. The same young friend whose 
early recollections of her have been quoted in the last 
chapter describes her pleasure on finding herself 
introduced to these new scenes under the guidance of 
Margaret. "My brother Francis," she says, "was at 
that time staying with the Thompsons, and attending 
the college, where he w T as studying languages. We 
only stayed a month, but during that time I learned 
to love Mother Margaret, and to esteem her as a saint. 
Delighted to find myself in a Catholic country for the 
first time in my life, I wanted to visit every church 
and convent, and dear Mother Margaret contrived to 
find time to accompany me. Through her influence I 
was admitted into the interior at the Poor Clares, the 
Teresians, and others, for every one respected her. 
I well remember how she used to call us into her little 



LIFE IN BELGIUM. 2$ 

oratory to sing the Litany of the Blessed Virgin for 
the conversion of England. One night, being later 
than usual, we were passing the door of her room 
when she followed us, and in her gentle tone said, 
half reproachfully, "What ! going away without saying 
good-night to the Blessed Virgin ? " Quite ashamed 
of ourselves, we returned and sang the Litany. I 
assure you no time in the day did we enjoy so much 
as those few minutes in her humble little room. There 
was a simplicity about it all that went straight to 
the heart/' 

The room here spoken of deserves a passing word of 
notice. It contained in a curtained recess Margaret's 
poor straw-bed. the austerity of which is attested 
by one of her visitors, who, being one day indis- 
posed, lay down to rest on this couch of penance, 
which, as she afterwards complained to her friend, 
did not offer her any great amount of ease. Attempt- 
ing to arrange it somewhat more comfortably, she was 
startled by finding under the coverlid a rough hair- 
band, while Margaret was equally disconcerted at the 
discovery. In another part of the room, on a little 
table arranged and decorated as an altar, stood her 
great treasure, an image of the Blessed Virgin. It 
was given her by M. Versavel, to whom it had been 
bequeathed by an old woman in Holland, who held it 
in great veneration, and charged him never to part 
with it except to some person who would know how 
to value it. Margaret probably valued it above every 
other earthly possession, and it was before this image 
that she was accustomed to invite her young friends 
to pay their evening devotions. " In that room," 
writes their mother, "my two sons and eldest daughter, 



24 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

when visiting the family with me, would go, before 
leaving the house, to say a prayer, or sing a hymn, 
and sometimes sing Vespers." The eves of Our 
Lady's festivals were generally chosen for singing 
Vespers, on which occasions the singers arranged 
themselves before the altar in choir fashion, Margaret 
being seated on her bed on one side, and the others 
opposite on whatever seats they could contrive. 

In fact, then, as later, the ruling principle of Mar- 
garet's life was prayer. It has been reported, and 
truly, that during her residence at Bruges she effected 
the conversion of several Protestants. But she herself 
declared that the principal means she used for the 
purpose was prayer. She once acknowledged that she 
had never been brought in close communication with 
Protestants without their being converted, "And 
yet," she added, "I am sure it was not by talking. 
There was a woman in Bruges whom no one thought 
would ever be converted. She once lived in the same 
house with me, and I went nine weeks following to 
the altar of Our Lady of Dolors for her. I did not 
speak to her at all, but at the end of that time she 
was a Catholic." The first of her Belgian converts 
she had the happiness of receiving many years later 
into the Hospital of Incurables at Stone, where she 
made a happy death. 

One friend, now a religious in another order, who 
knew her intimately during her residence at Bruges, 
remarks that nothing struck her more in her inter- 
course with Margaret, than her total freedom from 
human respect. No matter who the person might be, 
if she deemed it a duty to speak, she was withheld by 
no human consideration. A Protestant lady lodging 



LIFE IN BELGIUM, 25 

in the same house thought fit, on one occasion, to 
rally her on the subject of religion with unbecoming 
levity. Margaret replied in terms so forcible as effec- 
tually to silence her for the future. Her intensity 
of feeling was not easily restrained, and sometimes 
betrayed her into a warmth of language which she 
afterwards regretted. "And yet," says her friend, 
" nothing could exceed the delicacy of her conscience 
on the point of charity. Once fearing she had offended 
me in conversation, though I had not perceived how, 
she wrote me an earnest apology, ending with the 
words of the apostle St James, ' He who offendethnot 
with his tongue, the same is a perfect man.' " 

Her attention was first directed to the Dominican 
order by the Abb6 Capron, at that time third priest 
attached to the parish church of St James. 

He was himself a Dominican Tertiary, and strongly 
recommended her to enter the Order ; but to this step 
M. Versavel offered a decided opposition. His objec- 
tions are not known, but he was determined and per- 
sistent in refusing his consent, and gave his penitent 
to understand that her desire was extravagant and 
unreasonable. It is possible he only acted thus with 
the view of mortifying her will and exercising her 
in patience and obedience. For eight years Margaret's 
entreaties on this point were constantly rejected ; she 
was even forbidden again to return to the subject; but 
what was refused by man, she only the more earnestly 
sought from God. With the view of recommending 
her petition to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, 
she determined on making a pilgrimage to Our Lady 
of Assebroek, one of those miraculous shrines which 
still attract the warm devotion of the Flemish people. 



26 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

The parish church of Assebroek stands in a sort of 
sandy desert about five miles from Bruges \ and in 
order to get there in time to hear Mass and communi- 
cate, and then return home before the hour when her 
domestic services would be required, Margaret had to 
rise at two o'clock in the morning, and to make a 
painful foot-journey through the sandy roads in the 
dark. She persevered in this devotion for nine days, 
at the end of which time her confessor, without any 
solicitation on her part, announced to her that he 
withdrew all his objections to her joining the Domini- 
can order, and that she might do so with his full 
consent. Her joy was great indeed, enhanced by the 
feeling that she owed this grace to the intercession of 
Our Lady. She received the habit on the Feast of 
the Espousals of St Catherine of Sienna, 1834; and on 
the 30th of April 1835, being the chief feast of the 
same holy patroness, she made her profession, in the 
hands of the Abb£ Capron. On this occasion she took 
a vow of perpetual chastity, and often referred to the 
transport of happiness which she felt on that day, 
which she always regarded as the real day of her re- 
ligious profession. All the bells of Bruges were ring- 
ing to welcome in the month of May ; but to her heart 
their chimes seemed to be celebrating her sacred 
espousals. " On that day," she would say, " I walked 
on air, it made me comprehend something of what it 
must be to be in an ecstasy ! " The children of the 
family whom she had so tenderly reared shared in her 
joy, and testified their sympathy in their own graceful 
way. They assembled in the hall to greet her on her 
return from church ; the youngest boy having strewed 
the ground with roses, and prepared a crown of 



LIFE IN BELGIUM. 2J 

flowers which he insisted on placing upon her head. 
She suffered him to have his way, but remarked to 
one of his sisters, that " it was much as if they were 
crowning the devil/' 

Whatever may be thought of the manner of life 
which we have been attempting to describe, it may be 
instructive to know in what light Mother Margaret 
herself was accustomed to regard it. In a manifesta- 
tion written at the desire of a confessor shortly before 
her last illness, she speaks of her life in Bruges as 
being "more like that of devout ladies in the world, 
praying much, going to as many ceremonies as I could 
in the church, to the great discontent of those I had 
to serve ; going very often to the sacraments, but not 
mortifying myself; and giving way to temper and 
self-will to an immense degree, but all the while 
desiring to be different, and reading much, which has 
been my greatest good." To these words we must 
subjoin the significant comments of Bishop Ullathorne. 
"These/' he says, "were the years of her great combats 
with her strong nature and high spirit; but whilst 
this generous soul is accusing herself of not mortifying 
herself, she conceals from us those severe mortifications, 
fastings, and watchings, and those internal sufferings, 
through which, as well as by the occasions presented 
by her duties and her bodily sufferings, she was 
waging incessant war with nature and its irascible 
propensities." 

After her profession, Margaret redoubled the fervour 
both of her charities and her austerities. Her ardent 
temperament, however, was tested and purified by 
many trials, both of mind and body. She had to 
encounter severe bodily sickness, and interior suffer- 



28 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

ing yet harder to bear. Both one and the other were 
doubtless part of the providential training of her soul, 
and it was in that light that she herself always re- 
garded the continual ill-health by which her powerful 
nature was chastened and subdued. The spinal affec- 
tion already spoken of assumed from time to time an 
active form, causing excruciating suffering, added to 
which she had more than one attack of fever. 

Her interior trials appear to have arisen in part 
from that impulse which was constantly urging her to 
undertake something for God, whilst, at the same time, 
His divine will in her regard was not as yet manifested. 
Her sadness and preoccupation were visible to others, 
and often elicited the kind remonstrances of her mis- 
tress, who would affectionately press her to tell the 
cause of her unhappiness. 

" I don't know what makes me unhappy," she would 
reply ; " I feel I want something, but I don't know 
what." 

The sight of sins and scandals which she was 
powerless to remedy also occasioned her a distress 
which to those around her seemed altogether un- 
reasonable, and the same kind friend would advise 
her at such times not to trouble herself so much about 
what she could not prevent, often reminding her that 
she could not expect to set the whole world to rights. 
Colette, the confidential servant of M. Versavel, also 
proffered her homely advice, and tried to restrain the 
impetuosity of that ardent nature which longed to 
right every wrong with the least possible delay. 
Colette's words, full of practical good sense, were 
always well received. She had a great affection and 
veneration for Margaret, and had the happiness 01 



LIFE IN BELGIUM. 29 

afterwards welcoming her back to Bruges at a time 
when her seemingly impossible dreams had been more 
than realised. When reminded of the days when she 
had so often proved a wise counsellor, she shook her 
head incredulously, and, turning to Mother Margaret's 
companion, said, with a sort of fond smile, " There 
never was but one Margarita ! " 

M. Versavel was often himself the cause of suffering 
to his penitent, both by the rigour of his direction and 
by the firmness with which he opposed her commenc- 
ing any work or embracing any state of life to which 
he instinctively felt she was not called by God. Her 
entreaties to be allowed to make another trial of her 
religious vocation were constantly rejected. " I see," 
he would say, " that you are intended for something, 
but I do not yet clearly see what it is." He appears 
to have been secretly convinced that she possessed all 
the qualities that would fit her to become a religious 
foundress, and to have been averse to her entering on 
any course that might hamper her freedom when the 
moment for beginning her real work should arrive. 
Events justified the sagacity of M. Versavel's judg- 
ment, guided, as it doubtless was, by the Spirit of 
God ; but at the time the constant thwarting of every 
proposed plan was naturally felt by his penitent as a 
painful check. 

These mental anxieties reacted on her bodily health, 
and induced attacks in the head which probably 
caused her greater suffering than any of her other 
infirmities. 

Towards the latter part of the year 1839, she was 
seized with illness of a yet more alarming character, 
and in the belief that her symptoms indicated the 



30 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

approach of a contagious fever, it was decided to re- 
move her to the Hospital of the Sisters of Charity. 
By Mrs Thompson's desire she was provided with a 
separate apartment, but even here the accommodation 
provided was of the humblest kind. As the patients 
were required to bring their own beds, Margaret had 
to be carried down-stairs and placed in a conveyance, 
whilst the bed on which she had been lying was rolled 
up and taken to the hospital for her use. She often 
spoke of the desolation of heart she experienced at 
this time. "No one would believe/' she said, "what 
I felt when they placed me in the chair to carry me 
down-stairs and took my bed from under me. Mrs 
L. was with me, and carried my image of the Blessed 
Virgin before me : that was my only consolation • I 
do believe she used to talk to me at that time." In 
the hospital she felt the want of many comforts to 
which she had hitherto been accustomed. The room 
in which she was lodged was small, the mattress lay 
on the floor, and the food was served in the coarse 
brown ware used by the poorer classes. But she had 
hardly entered before the doors were besieged by 
persons of all ranks, among whom the news had 
spread that " Margarita " had been carried to the 
hospital in a dying state, and who came in crowds to 
testify their feelings of sympathy and respect. It 
took one person the whole day to open the door to 
her visitors, and the concourse was found so trouble- 
some to the community, that the nuns at last requested 
M. Versavel to put a stop to it. 

She remained at the hospital until partially convale- 
scent, but did not again return to the Thompsons' family. 
Mrs Thompson arranged for her reception into the 



LIFE IN BELGIUM. 3 I 

house of the Abbe Capron, where two or three pious 
persons, Tertiaries like herself, then resided. Here 
she continued for some time, uncertain as to her future 
plans, but feeling more powerfully urged than ever 
" to do something for God." Her soul was meanwhile 
passing through a very crucible of desolation and 
temptation. Her sense of humiliation under these 
trials was crushing and terrible. Everything appeared 
like a dark void ; and she described herself as going 
about from one church to another seeking refuge in 
prayer from her own pressing thoughts, which would 
not suffer her to rest. 

During all this season of trouble the Epistles and 
Offertories of the Mass seemed to speak to her soul in 
an extraordinary manner. " When I read them now," 
she said, "I cannot see in them what I then saw. 
They always seemed to be saying, Do something for 
God." Once, as she was praying in St James's Church, 
on the Feast of St Catherine, this interior voice be- 
came audible even to her bodily senses; she heard 
the words, Do something for God, spoken behind her, 
and that so distinctly that she answered aloud, " Lord, 
what can I do ? " and looked around to see if some 
one had not really spoken. She used also to speak of 
a dream, if dream it were, which left a strong impres- 
sion on her mind, wherein she seemed to be going 
over mountains, followed by great multitudes of . 
people. When first she saw the Welsh hills they re- 
minded her of this dream, and she exclaimed, " Oh, 
how I long to work for Wales ! Those hills remind 
rne of my dream in Belgium/' 

By advice of the Abbe Capron, she at length deter- 
mined on commencing a religious establishment in 



3 2 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

Bruges. The plan seems to have been to have founded 
a small community of Dominican Tertiaries, living 
under religious rule, and devoting themselves to active 
works of charity. Margaret had long since abandoned 
all intention of returning to England, and had even 
bound herself by vow not to do so, trusting neverthe- 
less that she might be able to work for the good of 
her country people in a foreign land. She proposed 
taking in invalid English ladies, or young persons 
requiring religious instruction, and with this view she 
hired a good house in Esel Street. M. Versavel, who 
had discouraged other projects, entered warmly into 
this. He not only supplied Margaret with the little 
fund of her own savings which he had hitherto reserved, 
but increased it from his private resources, so as to 
enable her to furnish her house. When her old and 
valued friend, Mrs Amherst, of Kenilworth, paid her 
second visit to Bruges, she found Margaret about to 
take possession of her new abode, and was entreated 
by her not to forget the new foundation on her re- 
turn to England. " Come back soon," she said, "and 
for the love of God bring me some old ' Gardens of 
the Soul/ Catechisms, and reading-books. " "All she 
wished and prayed for," writes her venerable friend, 
" was to work for the salvation of souls." 

Yet from the first she felt no confidence in the suc- 
cess of this experiment. She continually assured her 
confessor that " it would not go." Difficulties of all 
sorts arose to obstruct her progress, and very conflict- 
ing counsels were offered her in various quarters. 
The Bishop of Bruges and some of the clergy proposed 
her trying a foundation in America, while the Domi- 
nican authorities were anxious that she should make 



LIFE IN BELGIUM. 33 

her novitiate in a French convent, with a view of 
afterwards returning to Bruges, and founding a con- 
vent of the order in that city. To complete her 
embarrassment, the temporal assistance that had been 
promised her was diverted into another channel ; 
ridicule was cast upon her plan ; and her best friends 
seemed to disapprove it. An influential priest actively 
opposed her, and, God so permitting it, even her own 
director appears to have forgotten that he had ever 
given encouragement to the undertaking. All these 
causes combined to produce in her soul a state of 
mental distress which surpassed all she had hitherto 
experienced. She has described it herself in a letter, 
written many years afterwards to a friend, who remarks 
on the passage, that "it seems to be a revelation of 
no ordinary soul, and to belong to an order of things 
only found in the lives of the saints." " Just before 
I came to England," she writes, "I had a cross that 
nearly killed me. I had not a friend. My own con- 
fessor turned against me, and denied things he had 
told me to do. I was so poor, so forsaken, that in 
going through one of the streets of Bruges, I stopped 
and put my hand to my head, and looked up to heaven 
and said, '0 God! where shall I find a friend V I 
could not paint the anguish of my soul at that moment. 
But it obtained for me a freedom of soul unknown till 
then, and the words of the Following of Christ came 
into my mind, i In the cross is infusion of heavenly 
sweetness,' and these words seemed to convey ease to 
my tortured brain." 

Reduced to actual distress, she endeavoured for a 
time to support herself by receiving lodgers. But this 
plan likewise failed, and it was at this critical juncture 

c 



34 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

that she received pressing solicitations from her friend, 
Mrs Amherst, to return to England, where there was 
so much need of those who were willing to work for 
the glory of God. The proposal w T as one to which 
Margaret felt a strong repugnance, and she even be- 
lieved herself bound by her promise to remain in 
Belgium. M. Versavel, however, warmly supported 
Mrs Amherst's suggestion, and by his desire Margaret 
addressed to Mrs Amherst the following letter, which 
is the earliest from her hand that has been preserved, 
and will convey the best idea that can be formed of 
her sentiments at this important crisis : — 

" Bruges, 1842. 
"Kespected Madam, — I hope you will excuse 
the liberty I take in writing to you : it is the wish of 
my confessor. As you expressed an interest in my 
regard, he wished me to ascertain from you if there 
were any probability of my being employed in Eng- 
land in any way for the poor. The reason, Madam, 
he wishes me to ask this of you is — the Dominicans 
have been here, and intend establishing a convent 
here, or at Ghent, in about a year. They wished me 
to go for a time to Paris to learn the rule, and also 
to speak French, there being a convent of the order 
in that place ; but M. Versavel and the Superior of 
the Jesuits here prefer my going to England, thinking 
I should be more profitably employed in the service 
of my neighbour. They would wish to know how or 
in what manner I am likely to be situated before I 
give a decided answer to the Dominicans. For me, 
Madam, you may dispose of me as you may judge fit. 
1 am ready to employ myself in any manner for the 



LIFE IN BELGIUM, 35 

salvation of souls, as I am told by those who conduct 
me that it is the will of God and what He requires of 
me. I shall feel greatly obliged by an answer in a 
few weeks. I remain, most respected Madam, yours 
very gratefully and humbly, 

" Margaret Mary Hallahan." 

On receipt of this letter, Mrs Amherst opened a 
communication with the Rev. Dr Morgan of Uttoxeter, 
who was then in want of a schoolmistress and sacristan, 
and he was sufficiently pleased with the account he 
received of Sister Margaret to agree to receive her. 
Want of means, however, obliging him to give up his 
design, Mrs Amherst next applied to the Rev. Dr 
Ullathorne, O.S.B., who had lately been appointed to 
the neighbouring mission of Coventry. What he 
heard of Margaret's rare qualities satisfied Dr Ulla- 
thorne that she would prove a valuable assistant in all 
his plans for the good of his congregation, and he 
empowered Mrs Amherst to engage her services. 
Before this could be done, however, Dr Ullathorne 
received the unexpected intelligence of his appoint- 
ment to the bishopric of Hobart Town, in Australia. 
He wrote at once to Mrs Amherst, explaining the 
difficulty, but adding that he hoped to decline the 
bishopric, in which case he should still be ready to 
receive Sister Margaret at Coventry. 

Mrs Amherst was not deterred by this threatened 
obstacle from persevering in her design, and the better 
to ensure its success, she addressed a letter to the 
Venerable Bishop Walsh, Vicar- Apostolic of the Mid- 
land District, in which she strongly recommended 
that some steps should be taken without delay to 



36 LIFE IN BELGIUM. 

secure Sister Margaret's establishment in Eng- 
land. 

The persevering efforts of this excellent lady met 
with the success they deserved. Her recommendation 
awakened the interest of Bishop Walsh, and he replied 
to her letter in the following terms : — " The person 
of whom you speak so highly must not be lost to this 
diocese ; bring her over to England by all means, and 
if she does not go to Coventry, I will take her myself." 
Mrs Amherst accordingly wrote to Margaret, inviting 
her to her own house until something could be de- 
finitely settled, and asking what she would expect for 
her services from any priest in whose mission she 
might be established. Margaret replied with charac- 
teristic disinterestedness : — " Wherever I go they 
must board and lodge me. I have clothes enough for 
five years, and at the end of that time, if I have given 
satisfaction, they will not like to see me in rags, and 
will give me new ones." In the meantime, as it now 
appeared certain that Dr Ullathorne would be allowed 
to remain in Coventry, he was anxious that Sister 
Margaret should be established there without delay, 
as mistress of the girls' school, in which office he 
trusted that she would likewise exercise a beneficial 
influence over the young women employed in the 
ribbon weaving, some of whom belonged to his congre- 
gation, while many more, as he had reason to believe, 
were likely to be gathered into the Church. 

On the 30th of April 1842, Margaret crossed from 
Belgium and landed in England. After a brief visit to 
her old friend, Madame Caulier, who then resided at 
Isleworth, she set out for Kenilworth, where Mrs 
Amherst had kindly prepared to receive her, intending 



COVENTRY. 37 

herself to introduce her to the scene of her future 
labours. After staying a few days at Kenilworth, she 
proceeded to Coventry, thus entering on the humble 
commencement of a work, destined, in the designs of 
God, to be so fruitful in our Lady's Month of May, 
being then in the fortieth year of her age. 



CHAPTEE III. 

COVENTRY. 

The Catholic mission of Coventry, belonging then 
as now to the Benedictine Order, had been placed 
under the care of the Eev. Dr Ullathorne in the 
November of 1841. The small chapel attached to 
the mission stood at the top of Hill Street, and had 
been erected in the year 1807. It was an unpretend- 
ing brick structure, and already began to show signs of 
dilapidation. The priest's house was not in a much 
better condition ; the rooms were small, and scantily 
furnished, and the walls in many places exhibited 
alarming cracks. A good schoolroom had been 
erected close to the chapel by Father Cockshoot, and 
an efficient schoolmaster was in charge of the boys, 
but no girls' school had yet been organised. The 
congregation, though poor and not very numerous, 
was animated with a good spirit, which led the people 
to respond with readiness to every measure of improve- 
ment set on foot by their pastor. English Catholics 
were at that time only beginning to recover from a 
long period of repression and discouragement. Things 
were indeed a good deal changed since the days when 



$& COVENTRY. 

Margaret and her young companions had encountered 
the stones and hootings of the Margate idlers on their 
way to chapel; but though important advantages 
had been secured to the Catholics by the Act of Eman- 
cipation, it was only by degrees that they learnt to 
feel their freedom. Many practices and devotions 
now familiar to us were introduced with hesitation, 
and it was some time before the Church could assume 
anything of that exterior order and beauty which is 
her natural inheritance. Even after all active persecu- 
tion had ceased, Catholics were for many years deterred 
by prudence, as well as poverty, from bestowing much 
care on the externals of religious worship. But many 
influences were already at work, the combined effect 
of which brought about much of that beneficial change 
which has been witnessed among us during the last 
quarter of a century : and it will not be thought too 
much to say that the work accomplished by Mother 
Margaret, during the twenty-six years that elapsed 
from her return to England until her death, contri- 
buted in its measure to swell that tide of religious 
revival which, like all great streams, is formed and 
fed by the confluence of many a slender rivulet. 

Yet who could have foretold that any co-operation 
in so great a work should have been in store for her 
on the day when she first stood in the priest's parlour 
at Coventry — to use her own words, " a poor, help- 
less, friendless, homeless, penniless woman ! " 

" I shall never forget my first meeting with her," 
writes Dr Ullathorne, " in the little house I then 
occupied at Coventry. She was then in her vigour, 
well-proportioned, very erect, and having an expres- 
sion of dignity and simplicity combined, yet with a 



COVENTRY. 39 

spiritual softness pervading features that indicated 
her remarkable powers of mind and heart. It seized 
me with a sense of surprise as well as of gratification. 
I at once felt that Mrs Amherst's promise that I 
should find in her a valuable co-operator in my mis- 
sion was far more than realised. She wore a plain 
black stuff dress closed to the throat \ her hair was 
cut off her head, and upon it she wore the plainest of 
Belgian caps, such as are used by the poor. To this, 
when she went out, she added the Belgian cloak and 
black chip bonnet and veil. Even then her ankles 
were so weak that walking out was a difficulty, and 
more than once she fell down in the street." 

The first thing necessary was to settle the precise 
terms on which she was to enter on the duties of her 
situation. But when requested to state the salary 
she would require as schoolmistress, she replied by 
warmly repudiating all thoughts of being paid at all. 
In fact, she never could understand how people could 
endure to be paid for doing anything for Almighty 
God. " I often think," she once remarked, " what 
madness it seemed, my coming over to Coventry 
without a penny in the world. And the best of it 
was, I did not want them to give me any money. I 
wonder if the bishop remembers how indignant I was 
when he asked me what salary I should require for 
teaching his school. ' Salary ! ' I said, t I am come 
for the sake of Almighty God, and not for money.' 
Then he said he supposed I should want clothes ; 
but I replied I had plenty. I was so affronted, the 
rich ladies at first did not know what to make of me," 
Such was her own account of her first introduction to 
Coventry, and the incident, so characteristic of her 



40 COVENTRY. 

spirit, revealed to her new director that in Sister 
Margaret he had to deal with no ordinary soul. But 
he prudently allowed nothing of this impression to 
appear, and left her to make her own way in the 
humble duties assigned her. 

It had been arranged that she should reside in the 
priest's house, where her first experiences were far 
from cheering. She occupied a very small kitchen in 
company with the old housekeeper, whose jealousy 
and crabbed temper made her life far from easy. 
Her bedroom was a poor attic, containing no furni- 
ture but a rickety bed and one very old chair. The 
walls were stained with damp and mildew, and in 
many places exhibited wide cracks. Her position 
was desolate enough. She was occasionally invited 
to the parlour by Dr Ullathorne, who always re- 
mained struck after these interviews by her modest 
reserve, her discreet language, and her gratitude for 
his proffered kindness. But she was ere long de- 
prived of this comfort and support. Within a fort- 
night after her arrival at Coventry, Dr Ullathorne 
found himself obliged to proceed to Eome in order to 
get the question of his appointment to the Australian 
bishopric finally negatived. The mission was mean- 
while placed under the care of the Eev. Mr Clarkson, 
the assistant priest, and Sister Margaret was left to 
find out work for herself, in a place where she was a 
total stranger. On Dr Ullathorne's return after a few 
months' absence, he found that she had collected a 
school of two hundred girls, which she was teaching 
unaided ; that she had already acquired considerable 
influence among the young factory women, as well as 
the weavers who worked in their own houses, and 



COVENTRY. 41 

that in addition to her school duties she had found 
out all the sick poor of the congregation, and was con- 
stantly engaged in visiting them. She had likewise 
prepared a very large class of First Communicants, 
and had made every preparation for celebrating the 
great day after the Belgian fashion, with a festal 
solemnity altogether new in Coventry. Her ordinary 
manner of life was to rise at five, after which she per- 
formed her morning devotions and prepared the 
chapel for Mass. If there were any very urgent case 
of sickness she sometimes contrived to visit it before 
breakfast, but punctually at nine o'clock she was in 
the schoolroom ; and her exactness on this point was 
so great that, as she has herself let us know, she made 
it a matter of confession if she were a minute or two 
after time. The school closed at twelve and re-opened 
at two, and the interval was given to dinner, visiting 
any sick who were near at hand, and preparing for 
afternoon school, which lasted from two to five. She 
arranged the school on the plan of that at Somers 
Town, dividing it into classes taught by monitresses. 
She always taught one class each day herself, so as to 
go through the whole each week ; and she used to 
walk about from class to class asking the an^el- 
guardians of the children to teach them. " I think 
they must have heard me," she said, " for though I 
was myself so ignorant, the parents always seemed 
satisfied, and said the children got on." Between five 
and seven she found time to say Our Lady's office, 
and to satisfy other devotions ; sometimes she again 
visited the sick, in which case one of the young women 
of the congregation undertook to prepare the school- 
room for the night school, which was open from seven 



42 COVENTRY. 

till ten : on Saturdays, when there was no school, she 
visited the more distant cases, specially in the dis- 
trict known as Foleshill. A certain number of the 
factory girls lived at Foleshill, of w T hom the larger 
proportion were Methodists ; but so great was their 
attachment to Sister Margaret, that troops of them 
would accompany her home, singing hymns to the 
Blessed Virgin all the way. Neither severity of 
weather nor her own manifold infirmities ever kept 
her at home when her presence was called for. One 
winter's night, when she had been detained unusually 
late visiting a poor woman in typhus fever, she had 
to return home after dark. A pond without any 
fence lay in her way, and the ground being covered 
with snow, she had missed the path. She came home 
drenched with water up to the waist, and could never 
say how she had passed this dangerous spot, though 
she always retained the impression that she had been 
supernaturally carried through it. On first coming to 
Coventry she had so completely forgotten English 
ways, that she asked to be shown the quarter where 
the "nobles " lived, imagining all the smartly-dressed 
girls who came to Mass on Sundays, and who were 
mostly ribbon-weavers, must be of the " noble '' class. 
When she came to understand the state of English 
society a little better, she was shocked and distressed 
at the depth of poverty which she discovered. To 
relieve it, she sold a number of her most valuable 
books, and could not understand how the kind Provi- 
dence of God could leave any of His creatures in such 
necessity, until Dr Ullathorne pointed out to her 
that without these sufferings many probably would 
never save their souls. There were at that time 



COVENTRY. 43 

many poor creatures at Coventry suffering from 
frightful incurable diseases, who, on that account, 
were left destitute of all attendance. One of these 
was a poor woman covered with sores which bred 
enormous worms. She could not bear Sister Mar- 
garet to leave her, and would make her sit by her 
bedside for hours together. " I was very frightened 
of the worms," she said, in relating this circumstance, 
11 and could not help starting when they crawled my 
way." There was another sufferer in a half putrid 
state, who was deaf in one ear, so that when the 
priest had to hear her confession he was obliged to 
lean over her, and speak into the other ear, regard- 
less of the intolerable effluvium. Another case was 
that of a poor woman bent quite double in a position 
that rendered it impossible for her to lie down, or 
even to sit without support. She had even to be fed 
by others. When her husband went out to his work 
in the morning he used to tie her to the bedpost to 
prevent her falling out of her chair, and then leave 
her, dependent through the day on the chance kind- 
ness of neighbours. Sister Margaret visited this 
poor woman daily, taking with her such better kind 
of food as she could procure, and feeding her with 
her own hands. She found her quite ignorant of re- 
ligion, and took infinite pains in instructing her. 
Suffering as she was in body, the invalid was absorbed 
with delight as the truths of faith opened on her 
mind. She used to say she could not be grateful 
enough for being allowed to hear of such beautiful 
things, and Sister Margaret often declared that the 
sight of her faith and devotion was such a joy that 
" it set her up for the day." 



44 COVENTRY. 

She was greatly assisted in her attendance on the 
sick by some of the young women of the congregation, 
who attached themselves to her person and delighted 
in sharing her labours. One of these undertook to 
take care of a case which was altogether extraordin- 
ary. It was that of a woman who had taken to her 
bed, in the first instance out of pure sloth, but who 
fell at last into such a state of dirt and disease that 
no one would go near the house. Miss G., however, 
hearing that she was dying without help, proceeded 
to the spot, and finding the house-door locked, made 
her entrance by the window, undertook the difficult 
task of cleansing the room and the poor patient, and 
waited on her with the utmost devotion till the day of 
her death. All these deeds of charity were amply 
recompensed. Every one of the sufferers above spoken 
of were received into the Church, and died happily, 
their extraordinary sufferings seeming to dispose them 
for the faith and to procure them unusual graces. 

Such was the mode of life on which Sister Margaret 
had already entered during Dr Ullathorne's absence, 
and the amount of good which she had effected almost 
single-handed confirmed him in the impression he had 
already formed regarding her. At the same time, her 
difficulties with the old housekeeper came to his 
knowledge, and blaming her for keeping him in 
ignorance of what she had suffered, he dismissed the 
old woman, engaged a girl in her place, and placed 
the housekeeping in Sister Margaret's hands — an 
arrangement which continued so Ions: as she remained 
under his roof. Sister Margaret took occasion of his 
return to make a Spiritual Ketreat under his direction. 
She entered on it with extraordinary fervour, and 



COVENTRY. 45 

during its course made a general confession of her 
whole life, which cost her many days of great labour 
and much interior suffering. 

In the meantime her influence among the young 
women of the congregation went on daily increasing. 
They grew to feel towards her as a mother, won by 
that singular power of attracting hearts of which so 
many who approached her were conscious. On this 
point we can do no better than quote the language of 
one whose testimony must carry with it the greatest 
amount of authority. " Over the people, and especi- 
ally over the young women employed in ribbon- 
weaving," writes Bishop Ullathorne, " she exercised a 
spiritual influence in a very unusual degree. I have 
often asked myself what was the secret of that mar- 
vellous influence which she exercised ; and I believe 
that it lay not only in that great, warm, loving soul of 
hers, that was always going to God, but also in her 
faith in other souls, in what they are, in what they 
have latent in them, and in what they are capable of. 
Then she loved souls so much, and they felt her love." 
And he adds, that amongst these young persons the 
name of Sister Margaret soon became " a household 
word." She succeeded in inducing them to avoid 
occasions of danger and vanity by modesty of dress, 
and caution in their demeanour. For herself, she 
united a wonderful freedom of spirit, and even of 
manner, with great strictness in all that concerned 
the keeping aloof from the world. She cherished the 
religious character which she had assumed by her 
profession and her vow as jealously as any inmate of 
a cloistered convent ; and even the Protestants of 
Coventry seem to have understood that the plainly- 



46 COVENTRY. 

dressed priest's housekeeper had something of the 
nun about her. A story is told of some of the young 
Catholic girls of Coventry persuading her to accom- 
pany them one Easter Monday to see St Michael's 
Church. That venerable relic of Catholic times, the 
spire of which forms one of the most remarkable 
features in any view of the city of Coventry, was not 
at that time shown to the public without a fee, except 
on the holiday in question. When Sister Margaret 
and her companions entered the church, the service 
was going on, and a tolerably large congregation was 
present. Sister Margaret told them to take her at 
once to the Ladye Chapel, and there kneeling down, 
she recited with them aloud the Litany of Our Lady, 
with the intention of recovering that beautiful build- 
ing to the Catholic Church. When it was finished, 
she rose and walked out again, without looking at 
anything around her, whilst the old beadle exclaimed 
to her companions, "Why, that's an old nun! you 
shouldn't go about with an old nun ! " This story 
spread far and wide, and got very much misrepre- 
sented ) but it is a fair example of her habitual mastery 
of the temptation to human respect. 

She had a great horror of that weakness, and in 
various ways tried to teach her young companions to 
deliver themselves from its slavery. Once when she 
was going out to visit the sick, accompanied by her 
friend, Miss G-., she asked the latter to carry a parcel 
of rather formidable size, containing necessaries for 
the poor. Miss G-. did not altogether relish the 
proposal, and said she would give a penny to some 
child who would carry it for them. "No," said 
Sister Margaret, " I will carry it myself." On this 



COVENTRY. 47 

her companion entreated to be allowed to take it, 
but Sister Margaret was firm in her refusal. " You 
are not worthy of carrying it," she said, " as you are 
ashamed of it." She then told her that in her youth 
she had felt the same false shame at carrying parcels 
in the streets, and to conquer herself she bought the 
largest band- box she could find, and carried it down 
one of the principal streets in London. Probably 
the relation of this notable example had its effect on 
the hearer, for she did not refuse to accompany 
Sister Margaret on a certain expedition to Nuneaton, 
which demanded no little sacrifice of human respect. 
The whole distance is now traversed by railway ; but 
a few years ago the journey thither was a more 
serious affair. No public conveyance plied between 
Nuneaton and Coventry, and the only plan which 
Miss G. could suggest was, that they should go with 
the butcher's son when he paid his weekly visit in 
his cart. Sister Margaret consented to this, and in 
due time they arrived at Nuneaton, without any 
disaster. But when, after despatching their charitable 
business, the time came for them to return, they 
found to their dismay that the passengers in the cart 
were increased to four, by the presence of a young- 
calf which the butcher had purchased, and was about 
to convey to Coventry. Sister Margaret, whose 
farm-yard experience was not very extensive, was 
apprehensive lest the calf should bite, and was only 
reassured on beholding it safely enveloped in a net. 
It proved a very harmless companion, and only con- 
soled itself during its imprisonment by sucking the 
end of Miss Gt.'s silk dress. The assistance rendered 
by this faithful and devoted friend, the first com- 



48 COVENTRY. 

panion who joined Sister Margaret's Community at 
Coventry, the last who watched by her bed of death, 
proved a great support and consolation to her. "When 
their acquaintance ripened into mutual confidence, 
Miss G. discovered, to her surprise, that Sister 
Margaret was carrying on her life of incessant and 
exhausting labour in spite of bodily infirmities which 
would have reduced one of less energetic spirit to 
the condition of an invalid. The inflammation in her 
eyes obliged her constantly to wear a green shade ; 
and a distressing eruption covered her whole person, 
with the exception of her face, which was never in 
any way disfigured, and gave no indication of what 
she at times suffered. The scalp of the head was 
affected in a particular manner, and at the time we 
speak of, the consequent discomfort was increased 
from her having hitherto had no one to assist her 
with that tender and delicate care of which she stood 
so much in need. This care was now effectually 
supplied by her new friend, who, with another young 
person, equally devoted to Sister Margaret, gladly 
relieved her of some of her laborious duties, and as- 
sisted her in every work of charity. 

Their wonder at the courage which could persevere 
in such a daily course as that embraced by Sister 
Margaret w r as increased as they gradually discovered 
more and more of the austerity of her life. The 
Dominican rule prescribes the wearing of serge 
garments next the skin, and though this point is not 
obligatory on a secular Tertiary, Sister Margaret 
considered herself bound by it ; and not being able 
to purchase the material in question, she substituted 
in its place under-garments of the very coarsest brown 



COVENTRY. 49 

wrapping, such as is used for covering luggage. This 
mortification was the severer from the exceedingly 
tender and irritable state of her skin, nor could she 
be induced by any argument to give up the practice. 
She spent nothing on herself. Even the clothes 
which her friends at Kenilworth sometimes sent for 
her own use were given away as soon as received. 
The consequence was, that she was often short of 
actual necessaries, and at last, the bonnet she had 
brought from Belgium had lost the semblance of a 
bonnet, and her solitary pair of walking shoes were 
found to be full of holes. Her two faithful disciples 
consulted together what should be clone in this 
emergency. They ventured at last to put a new 
pair of shoes in her room, but no sooner had she 
cast her eyes on them, than she exclaimed how good 
God was to send her just what she wanted for a 
particular old woman, to whom the shoes were im- 
mediately convey id. This mortifying failure of their 
first experiment a little discouraged them, and it was 
some time before they ventured on taking any steps 
for amending the condition of her bonnet. At last, 
however, with some hesitation, they contrived to 
produce a bonnet which one of them had made, and 
entreated her only once to try it on. . She consented 
to do so, and to their extreme joy, the comfort which 
it afforded to her sensitive head was so great that she 
agreed to wear it, a result which they regarded in 
the light of a great victory. 

She was in the habit of making little collections 
among the people for various pious objects, and also 
be^ed anions; her friends for means to relieve cases 
of distress. Thus, with Mrs Amherst's assistance, 

D 



50 COVENTRY. 

she obtained a set of linen for lying-in women, which 
was lent to the most needy, and became the origin of 
a useful institution. Moreover, she found means to 
interest one of the medical men of the town in her 
charities, who, though a Protestant, was always ready 
to give gratuitous attendance to any of her sick 
people. She also received generous assistance from 
the Carpue family, with whom she now for the first 
time became acquainted. It consisted of an aged 
retired priest, who held the rank of canon in the 
Cathedral of Arras, and who with his two maiden 
sisters, resided in the extern quarters of the Benedic- 
tine convent of Princethorpe. 

Sister Margaret occasionally visited Princethorpe, 
and once, having gone over to attend the Corpus 
Christi Procession, she made so eloquent an appeal to 
the Community on behalf of her poor children at 
Coventry that all were struck by it; and the late 
Rev. Mother St Genevieve remarked, that she was 
sure "Sister Margaret would some day work wonders." 
This little incident is recalled by one, then a pupil 
in the convent, who on that day made her first 
acquaintance with Sister Margaret, and never lost the 
sentiment of veneration which she then conceived for 
her. Her influence, indeed, was felt by all who came 
in contact with her, and a story is told of the success 
of one of her begging appeals, which will perhaps re- 
mind the reader of a somewhat similar passage in the 
life of St Catherine of Sienna, though, in the present 
instance, the contribution was less ruthlessly demanded 
than in the case of our holy Mother. One day after 
leaving the apartments of the Carpues, she observed 
that their servant at the turn was wearing a very 



COVENTRY, 51 

good dre$s, which seemed to her the very thing she 
wanted for a poor woman in Coventry. She therefore 
addressed the maid as follows: "You have good 
wages, and I daresay have three or four other gowns 
up- stairs quite as good as that you have on, which I 
want very badly for a poor woman w T ho has none ; so 
go up-stairs and change it, and bring it down to me." 
The maid, quite delighted, complied at once with hei 
request, and Sister Margaret returned to Coventry in 
possession of the gown. 

In addition to her other employments, she was 
sacristan, and kept everything about the church in 
excellent order. She possessed great skill in adorn- 
ing the altar, and as one of her early companions 
remarked, " could make anything look beautiful out 
of nothing." The materials at her command were 
but scanty. When first she came to Coventry the 
chapel was very imperfectly furnished with requisite 
linen and vestments. No lamp was burnt before the 
tabernacle — a circumstance arising from prudence 
rather than from neglect. This mark of devotion was 
still but rarely permitted in England, for Catholics 
felt reluctant to indicate the presence of the Blessed 
Sacrament to curious eyes, through fear of sacrilege. 
When Mrs Amherst applied for leave to burn a lamp 
in her domestic chapel, Bishop Walsh felt himself 
obliged to refuse her this permission. But, accustomed 
as she was to the usages of a Catholic country, this 
omission struck Sister Margaret as a painful want of 
respect. On Eosary Sunday, 1842, she obtained leave 
to put a small cut-glass lamp before the tabernacle, 
and herself bought the first pint of oil for it, praying, 
as she lighted it, that it might never be suffered to go 



52 COVENTRY. 

out. The sight of the lamp seemed at once to raise 
the faith of the people in the Eucharistic Presence. 
Some of them wept with joy on beholding it, and 
gladly brought their weekly pence towards its support; 
so that Sister Margaret's prayer was fulfilled, and the 
light she had been the first to kindle was never after- 
wards extinguished. 

The desolation and poverty of God's sanctuary was 
doubly felt by her after having been so long ac- 
customed to the magnificent churches of Belgium. It 
was a positive anguish to her when, on the first occa- 
sion after her arrival, she beheld the old housekeeper 
preparing the altar for Benediction, and placing on it 
the brass candlesticks used in the house and kitchen ; 
and she at once wrote to her friend, Miss Eyre, of 
Bruges, who furnished her with the means of procur- 
ing more suitable altar furniture. Benediction, how- 
ever, was not at that time often given, and Sister 
Margaret often went alone before the Blessed Sacra- 
ment, and, weeping to see her Lord thus solitary and 
unhonoured, she would sing through by herself, in 
the empty chapel, the whole Benediction service — a 
touching act of reparation such as we have already 
seen another devout worshipper of the Most Holy 
Eucharist longing to see discharged in the neglected 
sanctuaries of England, Another story is told, which 
belongs, however, to rather a later period. After 
the building of the new church at Coventry had been 
completed, the members of the choir thought proper 
one Sunday to take offence at something, and refused 
to sing. Sister Margaret, indignant beyond measure 
at the disrespect thus offered to God, sang through 
the whole Benediction service alone, at the full pitch 



COVENTRY, 53 

of her rich and powerful voice, in the resolve to make 
some amends in her single person for the shortcomings 
of the rest. 

Even on her first arrival at Coventry, during Dr 
Ullathorne's visit to Eome, Sister Margaret had taken 
some steps for improving the condition of the altar 
furniture, as appears from letters written to Mrs 
Amherst, w T ho liberally supplied her wants. Her 
notions on the subject of church decoration, however, 
were not so magnificent as they afterwards became, 
and she contented herself with something very far 
short of the highest Gothic standard. She often re- 
lated the pleasure she took in the construction of a 
certain antependium of blue glazed calico, covered 
with muslin, with which the beholders were amply 
satisfied, and which was thought rather a splendid 
affair. 

It is probable, however, that the calico antependium 
was intended, not for the church, but for her school- 
room altar. Our readers will not have forgotten the 
image of Oar Lady, already more than once mentioned. 
It need hardly be said, that this image had been 
brought to England by Sister Margaret, and found 
an honoured place in her poor room, though she did 
not immediately venture on displaying it before the 
eyes of others. But one day, previously to Dr Ulla- 
thorne's departure to Eome, it was produced in the 
parlour, and somewhat critically examined by him 
and Mr Charles Hansom, the architect, then a mem- 
ber of the Coventry congregation. Its various parts 
were brought out separately, the figure of Our Lady, 
that of the Holy Child, the silver crown and sceptre. 
The whole had certainly nothing about it to recom- 



54 COVENTRY. 

mend it in an artistic point of view, and the young 
architect pronounced it "rude," which made Sister 
Margaret very indignant. He made amends for this 
offence by designing a handsome mahogany triptych 
for its reception ; and in time the triptych, with Our 
Lady in it, was placed on an altar table in the school- 
room, and after the night-school was over the Rosary 
was recited before it. The young women attending 
the night-school sang some hymns and the Lifcany of 
Loretto ; and to these devotions, designed exclusively 
for the profit of her own scholars, Sister Margaret 
sometimes added a short spiritual lecture from 
Challoner or some other pious book. 

It must be observed, that the Rosary was quite in 
disuse at this time among the Catholics of Coventry, 
and even Sister Margaret's immediate companions 
thought it a childish sort of devotion, in which they 
joined chiefly to please her. But the Roses of Mary are 
never planted without attracting, by their fragrance, the 
hearts of the faithful. Intended, at first, only for the 
scholars of the night-school, these pious meetings soon 
drew a larger attendance. Many Protestants even 
came, out of curiosity, as they said, to hear Sister 
Margaret preach, though her preaching consisted only 
in prayer, singing, and spiritual reading. The school- 
altar, with its handsome triptych and other adorn- 
ments, was greatly admired, and its fame spread far 
and near. Some of the pupils at Princethrope were 
accustomed to send artificial flowers of their own 
making for Sister Margaret's image, and at length, 
when the month of May drew near, she resolved to 
venture on the purchase of some branch-candlesticks. 
When the candlesticks arrived, she was terrified to 



COVENTRY. 55 

find that their cost amounted to £8. She sometimes 
took occasion of the schoolroom meetings to appeal to 
the liberality of those present in behalf of some pious 
or charitable object, and her appeals, made in very 
plain and simple terms, were always generously re- 
sponded to. On this occasion, she turned round to 
the people, when the Rosary was over, and said, " I 
have gone in debt £8 for the Blessed Virgin, and I 
am afraid to tell the Doctor ; you must help me out 
of it." Immediately there were cries of " Here is a 
shilling, Sister Margaret ! " and "Here is sixpence!" 
and by the end of the month the whole sum was 
paid. She delighted in making the most of her 
decorations. One afternoon, having assisted her in 
preparing the schoolroom for the evening Rosary, 
her friend, Miss G., was astonished to see her, after sur- 
veying the altar with simple glee, take hold of her dress 
in both hands, and execute a little dance before Our 
Lady. " What ! do you dance, Sister Margaret 1 " she 
exclaimed. Sister Margaret was a little abashed at 
her unusual manifestation of devotion having been 
observed, and explained it by saying, that " she only 
danced before her Mother." 

Meanwhile Dr Ullathorne had begun to form plans 
for the rebuilding of his chapel, the ruinous state of 
which was beyond the possibility of repair. It was 
first requisite to collect funds, and for this purpose he 
undertook several journeys into different parts of 
England. Collections were likewise set on foot among 
the Coventry congregation, the people generously 
contributing from their slender means. Several of 
the young women offered themselves as weekly col- 
lectors, and among these were the two faithful assist- 



56 COVENTRY, 

ants of Sister Margaret already named. The Rosary 
evenings in the schoolroom were found to be useful 
opportunities for bringing the collectors together, and 
they were now made to assume a more important 
character. Every Monday evening, after the devotions 
had been recited, Dr Ullathorne came to the school- 
room, and gave those present a familiar lecture on 
some subject of interest. After this the collectors 
paid in their weekly collections, and then was the 
moment of triumph for the one who brought the 
largest contribution to the common fund. Besides 
the considerable sums that were thus raised, these 
weekly conferences diffused an excellent spirit among 
the congregation. The instructions which they re- 
ceived embraced a very wide range, and were of an 
unusually solid and elevating kind. The ceremonies 
and ritual of the Church were explained in a manner 
suited to their capacity. Courses of lectures were given 
on whole books of Scripture, and other more popular 
subjects were likewise treated. The consequence 
was, that not only did the Catholics become thoroughly 
instructed in their faith, but that a tide of conversions 
set in from Protestantism. The number of converts 
received in one year was at the rate of one a day, and 
it used to be said that there was not a street without 
its convert. The number of communicants likewise 
largely increased, and the devotion of the congregation 
became remarked by strangers. Mother Margaret 
always attributed the success of the work at Coventry 
to the solid method pursued by the clergy in the 
instruction of the people. In particular, her experi- 
ence of the good effected by the instruction of the 
people in the Church ceremonies, made her always 



COVENTRY. 57 

solicitous in urging this point on those of her com- 
munity who were engaged in teaching. She recalled 
the interest with which the Coventry congregation 
listened to some familiar explanation on these subjects 
from the lips of their pastor, and the practical effects 
which often ensued. One Holy Thursday, after a 
beautiful instruction had been delivered on devotion 
to the Blessed Sacrament, and its teaching enforced 
by an unusually careful adornment of the Sepulchre, 
the devotion exhibited by the people was altogether 
extraordinary. They watched before the Sepulchre 
with unwearied ardour, and one poor man, who kept 
a rag shop in the town, remained before it the entire 
night, standing all the time, without changing his 
position. Sister Margaret watched him with surprise, 
and afterwards declared that he seemed like one in 
ecstacy. 

On this occasion, as at other times, the duty of 
preparing the Sepulchre fell to her. It was one in 
which she displayed great taste, and it inspired her 
with peculiar happiness. One of her early companions, 
describing her skill in this office, adds the remark, 
that " our Mother always cried on these great feasts, 
because they were so soon over." She had been used 
to the long devotions of the Belgian " high days/' and 
it was a pain to her to think how short a time the 
English people spared out of their day to God. 

None took a warmer interest in the work that was 
going on at Coventry than the Dominican Fathers, 
whose head-quarters were then fixed at St Peter's 
Priory, Hinckley, the neighbouring missions of Lei- 
cester and Nuneaton being likewise under their care. 

The old schoolroom and chapel at Coventry, and all 



58 COVENTRY, 

the life and devotion that centred there, are still fresh 
in the minds of many ; and the Eev. Father Aylward, 
who was at that time missionary at Coton, has recalled 
pleasant memories of the days when Sister Margaret 
was devoting herself to the improvement of the young 
women of Coventry, and when, delighted to take part 
in all that was going on, he would sometimes give his 
people an early afternoon service, and then " cart them 
off" to join in the processions and other devotions of 
their Coventry neighbours. 

The task of collecting for the new church obliged 
Dr Ullathorne to be frequently absent, and towards 
the end of April 1843 he proceeded to Liverpool for 
the purpose of soliciting contributions. Before leaving 
Coventry he gave permission for the celebration in 
the schoolroom of the devotions of the month of May. 
This exercise was at that time but little known in 
England, though it had been already introduced into 
several places by Father Gentili and the other Ros- 
minian Fathers. A letter from Sister Margaret, dated 
the 2d of May, gives an account of the opening of 
these exercises, and contains an allusion to the Convent 
and Hospital, which already found existence in her 
hopes. 

The foundation-stone of the Church was laid on 
the 29th of May 1843. Before commencing the build- 
ing, Dr Ullathorne, accompanied by Mr Hansom, set 
out on a tour through Belgium and Germany, with 
the double object of soliciting alms, and of studying 
some of the chefs-dceuvre of religious art in those 
countries. Letters from Sister Margaret to M. Ver- 
savel, the Abbe* Capron, and her excellent friends Mr 
Charles Eyre and his sister, then residents in Bruges, 



COVENTRY. 59 

secured the travellers a warm reception in that city, 
where every one was glad to receive tidings of " Mar- 
garita." M. Capron talked of paying a visit to Coventry, 
Mr Eyre was delighted to assist a work in which she 
was interested, and gave introductions to several Eng- 
lish families. He promised, on the part of himself and 
his sister, to make over to Dr Ullathorne some York 
insurance shares, which nominally yielded the annual 
sum of £1 2, and were supposed to be convertible into 
about £300. 

On returning to England, Dr Ullathorne took the 
requisite measures for securing their sale. For some 
time past the shares had paid little interest, and it 
was hardly hoped that they would fetch the sum which 
had been named. Many prayers were offered by the 
associates of the Rosary for the good success of the 
transaction, and, to the surprise of every one, before 
the day of sale the shares rose in value, and were 
actually sold for £700. This sum was contributed to 
the building, the remaining funds being obtained from 
the subscriptions of the congregation, from collections 
in different parts of England, and from the resources 
of the Benedictine province. 

In the February of 1844, Sister Margaret herself 
paid a short visit to Bruges, in the course of which 
she obtained means for the purchase of a ciborium, 
worth about £12 of English money. She collected it 
from house to house, suffering much in the weary walks. 
The ciborium was bought in Bruges, and was after- 
wards recast at Birmingham. It was exhibited at one 
of the schoolroom conferences, and elicited one of 
those familiar instructions which created so lively an 
interest anions; their hearers. 



6o COVENTRY, 

In order not to interrupt our narrative of the com- 
mencement of the religious foundation, which will 
occupy the following chapter, we will anticipate the 
course of events, and bring together in a few words 
all that concerns the completion of the church and 
presbytery. The nave of the church was opened for 
divine service on the 10th of August 1844, on which 
occasion the building was blessed by Bishop Wiseman, 
Coadjutor of the Midland District, who likewise 
preached. The chancel was not finished until the 
year following, and memorable was the day when the 
temporary partition that filled the chancel arch was 
taken down, and the people beheld, as if by magic, 
the beautiful chancel open to their view. The conse- 
cration took place on the 9th of September 1845, 
Bishop Wiseman and eight other Bishops assisting at 
the ceremony. 

The work thus happily completed, like most other 
good works, found some to cavil at it, and murmurers 
were found who expressed their wonder why Dr Ulla- 
thorne should have thought of building so fine a 
church for a congregation in which " there was not a 
respectable person." This observation was overheard 
by Sister Margaret, and replied to in characteristic 
language. (i Coventry Church/' she said, " has been 
built, not for man, but God, and He is always re- 
spectable." 

As Dr Ullathorne's plans included the rebuilding of 
the priest's house, he resolved, with the approbation 
of the Benedictine Superiors, that the new presbytery 
should be arranged in such a manner as to be avail- 
able for the purposes of a small missionary priory. 
The proposal was warmly seconded by the authorities 



COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 6 I 

of the Order, and a substantial building was erected, 
communicating through the sacristy with the church, 
and containing accommodation for five or six religious. 
Whilst this was in progress, Dr Ullathorne took up 
his residence in a house in Spon Street, and here was 
laid the first germ of Mother Margaret's Community. 



CHAPTER IV. 

COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 

It will have been seen, that the idea of some kind of 
religious foundation had already suggested itself to 
the mind both of Mother Margaret and her director. 
The excellent effects of her labours among the poor, 
and the rapid increase of the work itself, very early 
gave birth in Dr Ullathorne's mind to the idea of 
founding a small religious community devoted to 
works of active charity. The materials requisite for 
forming such a community seemed to be gathering 
under his eyes in the persons of Mother Margaret and 
those faithful companions into whom she was gradu- 
ally infusing much of her own spirit. 

The idea of a commencement of some sort at 
Coventry had evidently been under consideration 
before the April of 1843, and in the summer of that 
year it appears to have taken a definite shape and 
purpose. A young person, a stranger to Coventry, 
who was desirous of entering religion, having sought 
Dr Ullathorne's advice, and heard what was in con- 
templation, decided at once on placing herself and 
her means at his disposal. The plan was being 
slowly matured by prayer and reflection until the 



62 COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 

moment should arrive for putting it into execution ; 
and as it was felt that the young foundation would need 
the support and guidance of one already trained in 
religious life, it was decided to begin on a very 
humble scale, and to receive the first postulants under 
Dr Ullathorne's own roof, with the view of transfer- 
ring them at a future time to a house of their own in 
another part of the town. 

It cannot be denied, that such a plan was some- 
what unusual ; but it seems to have been one of those 
cases in which ordinary laws have been providentially 
overruled ; nor was the project carried into execution 
without the full concurrence, both of the Benedictine 
and Dominican authorities. 

Mother Margaret's strong wish of placing her 
community under the rule of the Third Order of St 
Dominic, however, presented some difficulties. The 
Dominican Tertiaries were at that time unknown in 
England, and even the English Fathers were not then 
familiar with their rule. The only convent of Domi- 
nicanesses existing in this country was that at 
Atherstone, the members of which followed the Con- 
stitutions of the Second Order, and were strictly en- 
closed. 

But after careful inquiry, and reference to the 
authorities of the Order both in England and Belgium, 
it appeared evident that there was nothing new or 
unprecedented in the attempt to form a Community 
of Dominican Tertiaries, who, while embracing all 
the obligations of religious life, enclosure excepted, 
should devote themselves to the active works of 
charity. 

The Dominican Superiors in England expressed 



COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 6$ 

their willingness to leave the direction of the Insti- 
tute in the hands of him who had originated it, and 
the necessary powers for that purpose were conveyed 
to Dr Ullathorne by the Provincial of the Order. 
The consent of the Benedictine Superiors was like- 
wise obtained, together with that of Bishop Walsh, 
the Vicar- Apostolic of the Midland District ; and on 
the 28th of March 1844, the postulant before alluded 
to having arrived in Coventry, the four took up their 
residence in the house in Spon Street. One alone of 
their number possessed any independent means, and 
that was wholly insufficient for the support of the com- 
munity. Their only other resources were a small 
annual pension paid by the father of one of the pos- 
tulants, the assistance of friends, and the aid afforded 
by their generous protector, Dr Ullathorne, who 
placed his house and his purse at their disposal, and 
devoted himself with unsparing energy to their 
spiritual formation. 

A small room in the house had been cleared and 
fitted up as a chapel, destined to be the first choir of 
the new Institute. Small and poor as it was, it had 
a devout appearance, with its plain wooden altar and 
tabernacle, the tabernacle-door painted blue and gold, 
with a figure of the Lamb bearing the Cross — white 
wooden candlesticks from Belgium, and above, a copy 
of Vandyke's Crucifixion, which now hangs in the 
refectory of St Dominic's Convent, Stone. The office 
of Our Lady was daily recited by the Sisters, at first 
in English, until they had acquired greater fluency in 
the pronunciation of Latin. The Blessed Sacrament 
was reserved in the chapel, and Mass was said there 
every morning ; whilst on certain occasions permission 



64 COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 

was given for Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. 
The correspondence of the next two months affords 
indications that the Community was gradually assum- 
ing more and more of a religious character. The 
form and fashion of the habit was brought under con- 
sideration, and as it was not thought possible at once 
to assume the white habit of the Dominican Order, 
a black habit was adopted for a time, under which 
was worn the white scapular of the Order. And un- 
til circumstances allowed of the compilation of a body 
of constitutions, certain rules and regulations, com- 
prising the most essential laws of religious life, were 
drawn up for the temporary guidance of the Sisters. 
Nothing seemed now required save to obtain the 
formal permission of the Bishop for the clothing of 
the postulants, and this having been obtained, on the 
11th of June 1844, being the Feast of St Barnabas, 
they received the holy habit in their little chapel from 
the hands of Dr Ullathorne. The Eev. Father Augus- 
tine Procter came over from Hinckley, to be present 
on the occasion, as representative of the Provincial, nor 
was anything omitted which could contribute to the 
solemnity of the impressive function. 

The life on which the newly-clothed religious now 
entered was one of no little labour and hardship. 
Founded in poverty, that true patent of religious 
nobility, they had to endure its reality, and not its 
name. Their food was of the plainest description, 
and not rendered more palatable by the skill of the 
Sister who presided in the kitchen. She was but a 
learner in the culinary art, and somewhat given to 
experiments. The experiments were not always very 
successful. Her first pudding was pronounced as 



COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY, 65 

hard, that it might have been tossed over St Michael's 
Tower without being broken ; and having heard that 
boiled nettles were a very fair substitute for spinach, 
she once presented the Community with this unusual 
delicacy, which might have been better relished had 
not the nettles been old and tough. Fish never ap- 
peared on their frugal table; so that on the abstinence- 
days prescribed by the rule, potatoes formed their 
principal article of food. Nor were their beds more 
luxurious than their fare. One of them slept on 
an old door, and is said to have found the handle 
somewhat penitential. In the world all had been 
accustomed to a certain measure of comfort, yet the 
fervour with which they now embraced their hard 
rule of life, rendered even its austerities delightful to 
them. " How sweet everything tastes here ! " said 
one • " yet what should I have thought of it in my 
father's house ! " 

These generous dispositions were fostered by the 
direction under which they were trained. Two rules 
were given them in the beginning by their spiritual 
Father, who desired to form them in a truly heroic 
spirit : — they were to banish from their vocabulary 
the words " uncomfortable " and " impossible ; " and 
his precepts on this head were enforced by his example. 
Another of his maxims, which Mother Margaret often 
loved to recall, was, "First put in the Spirit of Christ, 
and then the spirit of the rule on that." They were 
thoroughly exercised, moreover, in humility and 
mortification, and taught the value of labour as an 
instrument of sanctification. Up to the latest hour 
of her life, Mother Margaret continued to regard 
menial labour in a Community as one of its most 

E 



66 COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 

valuable spiritual elements, and she never departed 
from the resolution which she formed from the first, 
of establishing but one grade in her Community, and 
of subjecting all, without exception, to the holy law of 
labour. 

It was this life, then, of active labour, spiritualised 
by prayer and a holy intention, on which the newly- 
clothed Sisters now entered. Their rule of life, how- 
ever, was so arranged as to enable them, whilst carry- 
ing on the work of the school and the visiting the 
poor, to devote a considerable portion of each day to 
the exercises of the novitiate, and self-improvement. 
Mass was generally said in the chapel at Spon Street, 
which served also as their religious choir, after which, 
two went to the school, one remained at home and 
attended to the domestic duties, and the fourth 
visited the sick, taking as a companion one or other 
of the young women who still regarded themselves as 
in some sort Mother Margaret's companions. Among 
these was Maria Roby, sister to one of the novices, 
whose ardent attachment to Mother Margaret had 
led her to determine, in case of her removal from 
Coventry, on following her wherever she might go, 
earning her living by the work of her hands. Although 
the delicacy of her health had led to the preference 
being given to her elder sister in selecting the first 
three postulants, she herself earnestly desired to join 
the Community, and she afterwards received the habit 
of religion on her death-bed under circumstances which 
will be hereafter related. 

Various circumstances concurred to delay the pro- 
fession of the Sisters for six months after the year of 
probation had expired. During this year and a half 



COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 6 J 

the little Community struggled on through many 
difficulties, supported by their trust in the good pro- 
vidence of God, which never failed them. It was 
remarked that, from the day of the clothing, the 
weekly offertory doubled in amount. Assistance was 
often received when most required, and from un- 
expected sources; but among their most constant 
benefactresses at this time were the Dominicanesses 
of Atherstone, and Mother Margaret's early friend, Mrs 
Amherst of Kenilworth. The following little incident 
is related by an eye-witness, who has been already 
named as making her first acquaintance with Mother 
Margaret in the cloisters of Princethorpe. "I re- 
member, on one occasion," she writes, " driving from 
Kenilworth to Coventry with Mrs Amherst to see 
Mother Margaret. Mrs Amherst took with her a 
basket of provisions, knowing that at that time the 
Sisters were often in want of necessaries. The Sister 
who opened the door carried the basket in with her, 
and we followed. When we reached the sitting-room 
she put down the basket, saying, * Here it is ! ; ' Here 
is what % ' asked Mrs Amherst ; and then they told 
us, that having nothing left in the house, they had 
just been praying for help, and their prayers were 
scarcely ended when the bell rang and the basket 
made its appearance." 

Besides the trials of poverty, they were exposed to 
others from which no enterprise undertaken for God's 
glory is ever exempt. Critics abounded who treated 
with contempt an Institute so humble in its exterior • 
and " Sister Margaret and the wenches of Coventry/' 
was the title by which the Community was commonly 
named. The whole thing was treated as an experiment, 



6& COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 

which some regarded as absurd, and others as 
audacious, but which both classes of objectors agreed 
in predicting could only end in failure. Even grosser 
calumnies were not spared ; and one lady, who felt 
attracted to the Community, was deterred from 
joining it by hearing that there was not a single re- 
spectable person among the Sisters, and that Sister 
Margaret herself was nothing but an impostor. 
Opposition of this kind is perhaps the surest sign of 
God's blessing, and is precisely that which every 
religious founder has in turn been required to endure. 
For the rest, the anecdotes that convey to us the 
contemptuous expressions of some critics often enough 
preserve the memory of kinder judgments more 
worthy of being recalled. On occasion of the opening 
of Coventry Church, in 1845, a priest, who had not 
visited the town for some years, came to attend the 
ceremony. He afterwards called on the father of 
one of the religious with whom he was acquainted in 
company with two other persons. He spoke with 
delight of the progress of religion which he found in 
the place, of the beauty of the church, and the good 
that had already been effected by the little Community. 
One of those present began to speak of the Sisters in 
a depreciating tone, observing that " they were only 
a few poor girls." "Then," said the good priest, 
rising and taking off his cap, " the more honour and 
glory be to Almighty God, who chooses the weak 
things of this world to confound the strong ! " 
Eighteen years later, at the opening of St Dominic's 
Church at Stone, on the 5th of February 1863, it 
was remarked that the Epistle at the Mass (for the 
Feast of St Agatha) contained those very words, 



COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 69 

so applicable to the humble beginnings of the Com- 
munity. 

It was during this time that Mother Margaret made 
her first acquaintance with Father Gentili, for whose 
missionary zeal and single-hearted devotion she always 
retained the warmest admiration. He first visited 
Coventry in 1844, for the purpose of preaching a 
sermon, and in the May of the year following he gave 
a public retreat to the congregation, which various 
causes combined to render a memorable one. The 
retreat had been fixed to take place at that particular 
time for a special reason. As most readers are aware, 
the city of Coventry is, every third year, made the 
scene of a procession known as the Godiva procession, 
which takes place within the Octave of the Feast of 
Corpus Christi. This exhibition tended so gravely 
to offend the public sense of decency, that in the 
year 1845, both Catholic and Protestant authorities 
attempted to take measures for counteracting the evil. 
The Protestant Bishop of Worcester addressed a 
letter on the subject to the city magistrates, and the 
Catholic priest invited Fathers Gentili and Furlong 
to begin a mission on the Feast of Corpus Christi, 
which fell that year on the 21st of May, and to con- 
tinue it through the Octave. The result has been 
described in a letter from the Eight Eev. Bishop 
Ullathorne, which appears in the " Life of Father 
Gentili." During the first three days the efforts of the 
missioner proved fruitless \ very few persons attended 
the sermons, most being engaged in preparing their 
houses for the great gala-day ; but on Sunday, when 
the entire congregation was assembled, Father Gentili, 
on fire with zeal, and grieving at the attachmentwhich 



70 COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 

they betrayed to their old customs, burst out in such 
a torrent of remonstrance and reproof, that tears and 
sobs were heard from every part of the church. He 
continued to preach three times a day during the re- 
mainder of the mission, and on the day of the pro- 
cession, few, if any, of the Catholics attended it. He 
was particularly anxious to prevent the children of 
the congregation from witnessing so demoralising an 
exhibition. " He promised them," says Bishop Ulla- 
thorne, " that if they would remain with him he would 
give them more amusement than they would find in the 
streets." He kept his promise as well as they kept theirs; 
for he interwove his instruction with such a chain of 
stories and dramatic pictures, told and represented in 
action, and in a style so winning, so amusing, so 
ludicrous, and so awful, by turns, as the subject shifted 
or its feelings changed, that older persons stood 
astonished, and the children were out of themselves 
— sometimes subdued into awestruck silence, whilst 
at other times they broke out into a rapture of mirth. 
It was one of those hours that are never forgotten 
throughout a long life. 

During the remainder of the mission the church was 
crowded, both by the Catholics of the congregation 
and by strangers. Father Gentili reverted to the 
subject of the late procession, and reminded his hearers 
how, at his suggestion, they had prayed for the rain 
to put an end to the unseemly festivities, and how 
their prayers had been answered, as had indeed been 
the case. He then delivered one of his famous dis- 
courses on devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and con- 
cluded with these words : " You have had the pro- 
cession of your lady, and now we will have a pro- 



COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. J I 

cession of Our Lady. The one shall expiate the other." 
Such a thing as a procession of Our Lady had not been 
witnessed in Coventry, or probably in England, since 
the overthrow of religion. But Father Gentili was 
not the man to be withheld by any feeling of timidity 
or human respect, and he found a most hearty co- 
operator in the person of Mother Margaret. With her 
assistance a bier was prepared, and on it was fastened 
her own image of the Blessed Virgin, adorned with 
lights and flowers. When all was ready, and Father 
Gentili beheld the spectacle which recalled, in so lively 
a manner, the practices of a Catholic country, the image 
of the Virgin Mother, decked with its gala wreaths, 
and surrounded by young girls dressed in white, he 
was like one in an ecstasy, and poured forth one of 
his inspired strains of eloquence on Our Lady, as 
" Cause of our joy." On that and the two successive 
evenings, a solemn and beautiful procession was made 
round the church \ and the crowds who came to see 
the sight, filled not only the church and churchyard, 
but even the adjoining streets. 

This event was one which Mother Margaret always 
recalled with peculiar delight. She loved to think 
that the image which she regarded with such devout 
veneration should have been the first to have been 
publicly carried in England since the reformation ; 
and among all the circumstances of her life, there 
were few on which she looked back with feelings 
of more unmixed happiness than this public act of 
reparation offered to the Mother of God. 

By the close of the year 1845, all obstacles to the 
profession of the Sisters were removed, and December 
8th, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, was 



72 COMMENCEMENT OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY. 

fixed on for the ceremony. The formal consent of the 
Eight Eev. Bishop Walsh was given in a letter, dated 
Nottingham, November 28, 1845 ; whilst to obtain 
that of the Dominican Provincial, Dr Ullathorne pro- 
ceeded in person to Leicester, where he was then 
residing. The circumstances were recalled by Mother 
Margaret, twenty-two years later, as she lay on the 
sick-bed from which she never rose. " It was just 
such a day as this," she said, " bitterly cold, with frost 
and snow on the ground. The Doctor had to go to 
Father Nickolds, at Leicester, to get his consent for 
the professions. He went on the outside of the stage- 
coach, for there was no railway then, and came back 
frozen through. The three Sisters were put into 
retreat immediately on his return. As for me, that 
day, I walked on air. I was so delighted to find that 
all was settled, after the many difficulties we had had ; 
and on the Immaculate Conception, too, the very day 
I had set my heart upon. I have just been reminding 
Sister Rose of it ; how I had to decorate the church, 
and go to the Sisters, and then run away and cook 
the dinner, all by myself, for they were in retreat. 
At five in the morning, I had to renew the vow of 
chastity I had taken before, and to take the vows of 
poverty and obedience in the hands of Father Aylward, 
and then to get the church ready for the ceremony." 
The Rev. Father Aylward on this occasion acted as 
the representative of the Rev. Father Provincial ; 
Father Augustine Procter, then Superior of St Peter's 
Priory, Hinckley, was also present, and the form of 
protestation read aloud by Mother Margaret is still 
preserved, written by his hand. 

To Mother Margaret it was a day full of consola- 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 73 

tion, one on which the foundation-stones were securely- 
laid of the spiritual edifice w^hich God had designed 
to raise. Whenever she recalled the thought of that 
day, or spoke of it to others, she failed not to dwell 
with a kind of rapture on every circumstance which 
could most strongly prove that God, and not man, 
was the founder. " This is the way I see it," she 
said, not long before her death ; " that Almighty God 
would do the work Himself, and so He chose out the 
lowest instrument He could find, that no one else 
should have any part in it. You see He chose a 
sinful woman, a sickly woman, a woman without 
family, without friends, without education, and with- 
out reputation. If He could have chosen anything 
viler He would, but He could not, — so the work is 
His from beginning to end." And in after years, 
when doubts were occasionally expressed as to the 
stability of the Congregation, which some persons 
regarded as likely to die with her, she was accustomed 
to reply in the same strain: " If the work were mine,' 1 
she would say, " no doubt it would die with me : but 
as it is God's work it will stand. 



CHAPTER V. 

REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

There was a saying current among Mother Mar- 
garet's religious children in after years, that each new 
foundation was purchased at the cost of a life. The 
profession of the first four Sisters, which must be con- 
sidered, in one sense, as the greatest of all her founda- 
tions, was not left exempt from this tribute^ and the 



74 REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

life which was in this case demanded was one which 
Mother Margaret held especially dear. Maria Roby, 
her devoted companion in so many labours, has already 
more than once been mentioned. Although her sister 
had been the first to receive the religious habit, Maria 
ardently aspired after the same happiness ; and while 
circumstances obliged her to postpone her wishes, she 
continued to render the Community all the services 
in her power, and to assist them in visiting the sick. 
She also lent her aid in many domestic occupations ; 
and during the month of December 1845, she was fre- 
quently at the Priory, whither the Sisters had now re- 
moved from Spon Street, helping in the completion of 
a black velvet funeral pall, on which the religious were 
at work. The pall was finished by the 30th, and 
being stretched out on the ground, Maria by a sudden 
impulse lay down, and desired the Sisters to spread 
the pall over her, saying, as they did so, "I wonder 
for which of us this pall will first be used." The next 
day she was seized with an apoplectic fit, and in a few 
hours expired. The immediate cause of this seizure 
is supposed to have been the distress occasioned by 
something that had been said which seemed to check 
her hopes of joining the Community. Her desire of 
embracing the religious life was so well known, and 
her association with the Sisters had been of so close 
and affectionate a nature, that, although she remained 
insensible, it was determined to give her the habit. 
This was accordingly done, and as one of the Sisters 
observed, " She would rejoice when she opened her 
eyes in the other world to find herself a novice of St 
Dominic." 

A prayer written in pencil was found a few days 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 75 

afterwards in her desk, wherein she recommends her 
vocation to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, and 
entreats her, " if such be the will of Almighty 
God, to obtain that she may soon leave this world to 
seek our Lord where He is to be found, among the 
sick poor, to attend upon them and comfort them in 
their afflictions. " When laid out in the habit before 
burial, crowds came to see her, and to attend her 
funeral. She was laid to rest in a vault in front of the 
Ladye Chapel, and such was the respect and emotion 
displayed by those who witnessed the ceremony, that 
some persons present observed, no peeress could have 
had a greater funeral. 

At this time the Community included, besides the 
four professed religious, another of Mother Margaret's 
friends, who, even before her conversion to the Catholic 
Church, had been accustomed to visit the sick with 
some of the Sisters, and had been greatly struck by 
the example of self-sacrificing charity thus brought 
before her. She resided with them at first as a visitor, 
and then as a postulant, and received the religious 
habit in April 1846. They may also be said at this 
time to have laid the foundation of their first or- 
phanage. A poor Irish woman, whose husband was 
absent in Ireland, died of fever, leaving four children 
altogether destitute. Unwilling to send these poor 
orphans to the workhouse, Dr Ullathorne made an 
appeal on their behalf to the congregation, who agreed 
to provide for one boy, while the other boy and two 
girls were taken charge of by the Sisters. On this oc- 
casion the good-hearted people of Coventry showed an 
admirable spirit of charity. They contributed provi- 
sions for the support of the orphans, and more than 



76 REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

one poor man came to the priest offering to adopt one 
of them for the love of God — one of those who made 
this generous proposal being himself the father of 
seven children. 

Mother Margaret, however, was not disposed to 
yield her treasure into any one's keeping. When the 
three children were delivered over to her charge, " you 
would have thought," writes one of the religious, " that 
she had had the whole world given her." It was the 
first opportunity which had yet been afforded her of 
exercising that tender charity towards orphans which 
in her might almost be called a devotion. Those who 
witnessed the reception of the Coventry orphans relate 
the delight with which she set to work to improve 
their appearance, and how the slender resources of the 
Community were made to furnish them all with a good 
suit of mourning. The children remained with the 
Sisters for some time, the priory-loft being turned into 
a dormitory, until, to Mother Margaret's great grief, 
their father sent for them to Ireland, and she had to 
give them up. 

Meanwhile, as the Community promised to increase, 
it became necessary to consider what steps should be 
taken for establishing them in a residence of their 
own. It was proposed to purchase some house in a 
suitable part of the town, and adapt it to the use of 
the Community. This plan, however, was never one 
which Mother Margaret favoured. " I cannot buy a 
house/' she would say; "I want to build one. I 
should like to have a proper convent with square 
cloisters." 

The plan to be adopted was still under discussion 
when events took place which changed the future 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 77 

prospects of the little Community, and seemed for the 
moment to threaten their dissolution. The Vicariate- 
Apostolic of the Western District had become vacant 
in the October of 1845, by the death of Bishop Baggs, 
after he had scarcely filled it for two years. Dr Ulla- 
thorne was nominated as his successor, and his conse- 
cration took place at Coventry, on Sunday the 21st of 
June 1846, the same day on which Pius IX. was 
crowned Sovereign Pontiff. 

The Benedictine authorities, on whom the care of 
the mission now devolved, proposed (as we learn from 
a letter of Mother Margaret's) that the Sisters should 
continue at Coventry, and even offered to rent a house 
for them in the town if they would remain. The Do- 
minican Provincial was equally desirous that they 
should settle at Leicester. Mother Margaret felt, how- 
ever, that the foundation was still too young and un- 
formed to be left entirely deprived of that paternal 
care which had hitherto, under God, been its main 
support. It was therefore determined to remove the 
Community into the Western District, where it might 
still enjoy the guidance and protection of him who 
might truly be regarded as its founder. The nuns of 
Atherstone, who had always shown a most sisterly in- 
terest in all that concerned the Coventry foundation, 
offered to receive the religious within their own con- 
vent until accommodation should be provided for them 
in Bristol. 

Their hospitable invitation was in part accepted, 
and on the 10th of July, two professed religious, one 
novice, and one postulant, left Coventry for Atherstone, 
where they remained for six weeks, joining in all the 
Community exercises. It was a sad and desolate time; 



78 REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

Bishop Ullathorne had removed to Prior Park almost 
immediately after his consecration, and, left to herself, 
with her little band dispersed and homeless, Mother 
Margaret began to realise the difficulties and respon- 
sibilities of her new position. She was leaving the 
scene of fruitful and happy labours for a dark and un- 
certain future, and the first letter she wrote after the 
Bishop's departure was headed by the words, " God 
alone, God alone, God alone ! " She never afterwards 
laid aside the use of these words, which have been 
adopted as the motto of the Congregation. " It was 
the circumstances which made the motto/' she used to 
say; "for with me, at that time, it was truly God 
alone ! " 

Kind and liberal friends, however, were not wanting 
to the Community at this critical juncture. Among 
the Benedictine Fathers, who had been present at the 
ceremony of Bishop Ullathorne's consecration, was the 
Bev. Father James Dullard, chaplain to the Benedic- 
tine Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration, then established 
at St Benedict's Priory, Rugeley, but who had for- 
merly resided at Cannington in Somersetshire. The 
Bev. Mother Mary Clare Knight, the venerable 
Prioress of this Community, retained her interest in 
the Western District, and her brother, Mr John 
Knight, besides possessing a considerable sum left at 
his disposal on behalf of the missionary fund of the 
district by his late brother, Charles, was understood 
to be desirous of contributing to the same purposes 
from his own means. Father Dullard, who was aware 
of these circumstances, and who from the first moment 
of his introduction to Mother Margaret had conceived, 
a strong admiration for her character and sympathy 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 79 

with her designs, advised her to make known the 
position in which she was placed to the Prioress of St 
Benedict's, Kugeley, who, as he assured her, had it in 
her power to assist her establishment in the Western 
District. In consequence of this advice, Mother 
Margaret drew up a formal statement of the position 
of the Community, its objects and present prospects, 
in the form of a letter addressed to the Prioress. A 
warm-hearted and generous response reached her by 
return of post, and at the suggestion of Mother Mary 
Clare, her brother, Mr John Knight, determined on 
presenting Mother Margaret with the liberal donation 
of £500, for the purpose of assisting her in establish- 
ing herself in the Western District. This donation 
was not, however, received until the January of the 
ensuing year. 

By the end of November 1846, the little Commu- 
nity, now six in number, had succeeded in hiring a 
house in Queen's Square, Bristol, of which they took 
possession on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. 
The anecdotes of this period sufficiently attest that 
their poverty was something more than nominal. But 
poverty is generally felt as a light trial by a young 
Community ; and the temporary make-shifts of a new 
foundation, such as using a crate for a chair, and -sleep- 
ing in a china-closet, were inconveniences easily en- 
dured in the midst of the joy of reunion ; while the 
fact of being for the first time under their own roof, 
gave them a sense of freedom and independence which 
lightened every hardship. Nay, their very poverty 
made each new benefaction which they received an 
exquisite joy. No treasures purchased by their own 
wealth could ever have afforded thein the same delight 



So REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

as they derived from an unexpected and most munifi- 
cent present, which they received at this time from the 
Franciscan Community at Taunton. It consisted of a 
box, containing, besides clothes for the poor, church- 
linen and vestments, candlesticks and lamps, with a 
handsome ciborium and chalice, in short, everything 
necessary for the service of their chapel. "When this 
box was opened by Mother Margaret and Sister Mary 
Gertrude Roby, they both sat down and cried for joy 
and gratitude, "never expecting," as they said, "to 
have such beautiful things for their own." 

The house in which they found themselves estab- 
lished was gloomy enough, and its cheerfulness was 
not increased by the reputation which it enjoyed of 
being haunted. Its former occupant had been a 
surgeon, and rumour affirmed that the remains of sub- 
jects whom he had dissected were buried in the cellars, 
and that the house was haunted by their ghosts. 
More serious anxieties than those suggested by the 
ghost stories began, however, to overshadow the 
future. Bishop Ullathorne had to proceed to Rome 
on the affairs of his diocese, and for the first time 
Mother Margaret found herself left with the entire care 
of the Community in her own hands. Her distress 
was augmented by the failing health of Sister Mary 
Gertrude Roby, whose religious spirit and prudent 
character had marked her out, in the judgment of her 
superiors, as qualified for the post of novice-mistress. 
Her threatened loss was doubly felt at this time, when 
the Community was rapidly increasing in numbers. 
Within three weeks of their taking possession of their 
house, four new postulants were received, one of whom 
belonged to the number of Mother Margaret's first 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 8 1 

followers at Coventry, whilst a second, in addition to 
other qualifications which rendered her most welcome 
to the Religious, brought a considerable accession of 
temporal means, so that after her profession (which 
took place on the 24th of January 1848) the Sisters 
became possessed of a certain fixed income, and were 
relieved from some of the pressing anxieties which up 
to that time embarrassed them. 

Three of the postulants were clothed on the 17th 
of January 1847, just before the departure of his 
• Lordship for Rome. " That day," writes one of the 
Eeligious, " was the last on which Sister Mary Ger- 
trude Eoby took her meals in the refectory." The 
foundation of Bristol, like that of Coventry, was not 
to be made without the sacrifice of a life. Her disease, 
which was consumption, had been augmented by 
anxiety and fatigue, and by the long separation from 
her beloved Superioress, which came on her at the 
very moment when her health was beginning to fail. 
She devoutly breathed her last on the 25 th of February, 
and was buried in the private cemetery of the Visita- 
tion Convent at Westbury. 

The work undertaken by the Religious, as soon as 
they had established themselves in their new home, 
was not a little laborious, considering the small number 
yet professed. A room in their own house was given 
up for the purpose of a poor school, and some time in 
the following year the poor schools attached to the 
Church of St Mary's on the Quay were likewise placed 
under their charge. The first step towards carrying 
out Mother Margaret's long-cherished plan of the 
Catholic hospital was taken so early as the January of 
1847, when three infirm patients w^ere received under 



82 REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

her roof, two of whom lived to be removed to St 
Mary's Hospital, Stone, where one survived until the 
year 1866. 

Admittance was likewise obtained to the Bristol In- 
firmary, which was regularly visited two or three times 
a week, the Sisters being also constantly engaged in 
visiting the poor at their own houses. In all these 
duties Mother Margaret at that time took a leading 
part. " She was most active in the schools/' writes 
one, at that time a novice in the Community, " encou- 
raging the Sisters and keeping order, and her active 
mind was a great support. She also frequently visited 
the poor in their own houses, and often amused us by 
relating some of her adventures in the noted locality 
called Pipe Lane." 

Besides these external works of charity, the more 
laborious task of training the Religious in regular 
community-life had to be carried on in the face of many 
difficulties. Often did Mother Margaret afterwards 
acknowledge how tenderly the providence of God had 
been manifested in the way in which her Community 
was gradually built up and developed. Those who 
formed its foundation-stones were precisely those best 
qualified for the severe and laborious life to which 
they were called. Their devotion to her person, and 
their intimate knowledge of the heroic life she had 
led among them at Coventry, inspired them with an 
ardour which enabled them to overcome all the ob- 
stacles of poverty, and the discouragements of a period 
when the outline of religious life indeed existed, but 
when all its details had to be gradually filled up. 

Mother Margaret was, nevertheless, keenly alive to 
the disadvantages under which her novices laboured, 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 8$ 

owing to the want of more regular instruction. The 
need was felt of a more perfect knowledge of the Rule 
and Constitutions. None among her present com- 
panions were qualified for the task of bringing to light 
each part of the Rule, or of training the novices in the 
recitation of the Office, the practice of the ceremonies 
of the Order, and other points of regular discipline. 
Neither was such an office the one for which Mother 
Margaret's own genius was best adapted. Her soul, 
creative in its conceptions, generally needed the hand 
of another to carry her designs into execution. She 
was herself so conscious of her own insufficiency for 
the task, that she constantly prayed for some one who 
would be able to bring all things into shape, or, as she 
expressed it, "who would settle the Latin and the 
music j " and she used to say to her Sisters that " the 
right person had not come yet, but she would come in 
time." Meanwhile, she managed as well as circum- 
stances would allow ; and a great amount of mental 
labour and anxiety devolved on herself. The Office was 
the first thing that required attention. At Coventry it 
had been recited in English, but this was only intended 
to continue until the Religious should be competent to 
undertake the recitation of the Latin Office, and they 
now began reciting it in the language of their Church. 
A paper is preserved, written at this time, in Mother 
Margaret's handwriting, containing directions for the 
ceremonies, as prescribed by the Dominican Constitu- 
tions, for the use of the novices. On some points she 
was uncertain, but where such was the case, nature 
gained little from the doubt, the question being 
generally decided in favour of what was most austere. 
Thus for the first three years the Religious stood 



84 REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

during the entire Office, not being aware of the rule 
which prescribes that each side of the choir should 
sit alternately during the chanting of the psalms. It 
is truly surprising, considering the circumstances of 
the Community, and the absence at that time of any 
English books on the rule, that so large a portion of it 
should have been thus early brought out and reduced 
to practice. The essentials of religious life were all 
observed. The chapter of faults was held regularly, 
and so strict was the discipline enforced among the 
Eeligious, that, to use the expression of one of them, 
" penance was their daily bread." " We were never 
spared, in or out of chapter," writes another, " but 
constantly exhorted to fervour, being often told by 
our Mother that she would rather work with one 
fervent Eeligious than with a hundred who had not 
the right spirit." 

Bishop Ullathorne's absence from his diocese was 
not prolonged beyond Palm Sunday ; but his short 
stay in Rome was productive of several important 
results. Previous to leaving England, he had been 
furnished with letters from the English Provincial to 
the Master- General of the Dominican Order, praying 
that Bishop Ullathorne might be appointed Superior, 
in perpetuity, of all the English Religious Sisters of 
the Third Order. 

" Everything requisite has been done for the esta- 
blishment of the Sisters of Penance," he writes ; " and, 
at my request, the General has written a letter to you ; 
and though I did not even mention the subject, he 
supposes in the letter that any other Communities 
established in the District will be under your general 
direction. The Holy See has given me a Rescript, with 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 85 

power to establish all approved Orders, and as many- 
convents as may be required, in answer to my especial 
application for your convent, so that I return home 
provided in all those matters." In his farewell audience 
with the Holy Father, a special blessing was also asked 
and obtained for the Dominican Community. 

The Bishop's return was followed by the profession 
of the eldest novice, who had accompanied the Com- 
munity from Coventry, the ceremony taking place in 
the Church of St Mary's on the Quay. The selection 
of the public church for the celebration of the cere- 
mony was necessitated by the narrow limits of the 
Community Chapel, which consisted of a very small 
room, communicating through glass doors with another 
room, into which seculars were admitted three even- 
ings in the week, when the Eosary was recited in 
common. About twenty or thirty persons generally 
assisted at this devotion. The propagation of the 
Eosary was, of course, the chief instrument used to 
increase among the people a solid devotion to Our 
Blessed Lady, and a knowledge of the mysteries of 
the faith. But it was not the only means by which 
Mother Margaret manifested her zeal on this point. 
When she first came to Bristol no image of Our Lady 
was to be seen in any of the Catholic churches or 
chapels, nor had the exercises of the month of Mary 
as yet been introduced. They were first performed in 
the Church of St Mary's on the Quay, in the May of 
1847, by the Eev. P. O'Farrell, O.S.F., at Mother 
Margaret's petition. She lent him the French '" Mois 
de Marie" from which the meditations were taken, and 
sent over to Ireland for an image of Our Lady to be 
publicly exposed during the month, for which she paid 



86 REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 

£3. She also induced an artist in Bristol to make a 
mould from Deger's well-known statue, and paid him 
£16 for doing so, no inconsiderable sum, considering 
the then straitened circumstances of the Community. 
From this mould a vast number of small statues 
were cast, such as have since become very common, 
though at the time they were quite a novelty, and so 
many of these were sold that the artist realised a 
handsome profit. Another devotion which Mother 
Margaret was active in propagating was that to St 
Philomena, by means of whose oil many remarkable 
cures were at this time effected. One of these cures 
was that of a young person who had been two years 
confined to her bed, but who, after using the oil, re- 
covered so entirely as to be able to join a religious 
Community. A little girl, under the care of the 
Sisters, who suffered so intensely from inflamed eyes 
as to be quite blinded, likewise recovered after the first 
application of the oil, and never again suffered from a 
similar cause. She had been received into the convent 
in consequence of a promise which Mother Margaret 
made to Our Lady, to take seven orphan children in 
honour of the Seven Dolours. In time the number of 
orphans received far overpassed the promised seven, for 
it was difficult for Mother Margaret to shut her heart 
to the claims of destitute children. Her sympathies 
were excited on the first Whit-Monday after her estab- 
lishment in Bristol by the sight of the Protestant 
schools, who, as usual, assembled and walked in pro- 
cession with the clubs, passing through Queen's Square 
on their way. She observed how much they seemed 
to be enjoying themselves, while the poor Catholic 
children, for whom no such holiday was provided, were 



REMOVAL TO BRISTOL. 87 

running after their more fortunate neighbours to see 
what they could not share. " Next year," she ex- 
claimed, in the fulness of her heart, u I will take care 
that the Catholic schools are equally cared for !" And, 
as we shall see, she failed not to keep her word. 

In the August of 1847 she was attacked by malig- 
nant typhus fever, which she caught visiting a poor 
family who were laid prostrate by the disease. The 
moment she entered the room in which they were, 
and inhaled the pestilential atmosphere, she felt she 
had taken the infection. Nevertheless she remained 
until she had discharged her duties to the sick, and 
then returned home, where the fever she had taken 
soon manifested itself in so alarming a form, that her 
life was despaired of. " In the height of the fever," 
writes Bishop Ullathorne, "she told me, ' I shall not 
die, I have not yet done my work.' " It never occurred 
to her to suppose for a single moment that the con- 
tinuance of the Community depended on her single 
life ; but she desired at least to leave behind her such 
an outline of her general design as might serve as a 
guide to those into whose hands its direction would 
fall. In the midst of her sufferings, therefore, she 
exerted herself to draw up such a sketch, the original 
sheets of which, stained with her blood, were unfor- 
tunately destroyed, but the copy, made at her desire, 
continued for some years to be used for the instruction 
of the novices. 



88 CLIFTON. 

CHAPTER VI. 

CLIFTON. 

More than a year had now passed since the settle- 
ment of the Community in Bristol, and they were still 
unprovided with a permanent home. The house in 
Queen's Square had never been intended as more than 
a temporary residence, but it was not until October 
1847 that any decision was taken as to their ultimate 
plans. This decision was in part brought about by 
circumstances connected with the Catholic Mission at 
Clifton. The ground at present occupied by the 
buildings of St Catherine's Convent was at that time 
the burial-ground attached to the chapel and priest's 
house, whilst the site of the present cathedral pre- 
sented a most desolate spectacle. The whole property 
had been purchased some years previously, at an enor- 
mous cost, by Father Edgeworth, a Franciscan, who 
began the erection of a large church in the Italian 
style, which was raised to a certain height when un- 
fortunate pecuniary embarrassments obliged him to 
suspend further operations, and the property came 
into the hands of the Newport Bank, to which he was 
a debtor. Bishop Ullathorne was at that time most 
anxious to provide a church which might serve the 
purposes of a cathedral, and he agreed to purchase the 
whole property for the sum of £3000. 

The portion of ground occupied by the chapel and 
cemetery appeared to offer a desirable site for the pro- 
posed convent, and was accordingly purchased by the 
Community for the sum of ,£1000. 

Mr Knight's donation of £500 had been made for 



CLIFTON, 89 

the express purpose of being expended on the purchase 
or erection of a convent, and it furnished one half of 
the purchase-money of the property. The thousand 
pounds which formed the only remaining capital of 
the Community furnished the other half, leaving £500 
towards the erection of the necessary buildings. 
Early in Lent 1848, the Community removed to 
Clifton, but the accommodation in their new home 
proved exceedingly limited. The chapel-house con- 
tained two sitting-rooms and seven bed-rooms, or 
rather cells, four of which were over a portion of the 
chapel, and were ranged on either side of a narrow 
passage, at the end of which was a window looking 
into the chapel below. Besides the Community, which 
now consisted of six professed Sisters, together with 
several novices and postulants, there were the three 
hospital patients, and one little boarder ; another in- 
mate being added to the household soon after their 
instalment, in the person of a poor woman dying of 
cancer. A room over the sacristy, and the organ-loft, 
were arranged to accommodate some of these objects 
of charity, and a house was hired in Berkeley Place, 
where a certain number of the Religious were received, 
one of the rooms serving as the middle school. The 
pro-cathedral, meanwhile, rapidly progressed, but until 
it was completed the convent chapel continued to be 
used for the purposes of the mission, and the passage 
looking into the chapel served the Religious as their 
choir. A side-altar was erected in the chapel, on which 
was placed the image of Our Lady, a circumstance 
not altogether acceptable to some of the congregation. 
In May, Bishop Ullathorne, at the request of the 
other Bishops, proceeded to Rome with the view of 



90 CLIFTON, 

obtaining the Hierarchy, the Very Rev. Dr Hendren, 
O.S.F., holding the office of Vicar-General during his 
absence. When Whit-Tuesday came, Mother Margaret 
did not forget her resolution to provide a holiday for 
the Catholic schools. The unfinished buildings at the 
pro-cathedral were given up for the day to the use of 
the children, and arrangements were made for receiving 
two hundred, who walked processionally up Park 
Street with banners flying, one of these being a banner 
of Our Blessed Lady. This was considered by some 
a most audacious proceeding, and gave rise to many 
murmurs. " Mother Margaret and her doll " were 
spoken of in severe terms ; and even good Dr Hendren 
'could not resist telling her that she was " a very daring 
woman/' " I thought he meant it as a compliment, " 
she said, in repeating the story, " for at that time I 
knew so little of the real feeling of English people, 
that I thought every one must be as pleased to see 
Our Lady as I was myself." From this time the 
meeting of the Catholic schools continued to take place 
yearly, until the great increase of numbers rendered it 
impossible, but the procession with banners was not 
again attempted. 

Before beginning the building of the convent it was 
settled that Mother Margaret should pay a short visit 
to Belgium, for the purpose of soliciting alms, and pro- 
viding some of the requisites of a religious house not 
ea/sily procured in England. During her absence, news 
was sent her that the image of Our Lady had been 
removed from the chapel in compliance with the pre- 
judices of some among the congregation. The intelli- 
gence moved her more than the loss of all her worldly 
possessions would have done, and she expressed her 



CLIFTON. 91 

indignation in no measured terms. " I have been in 
many passions on Our Lady's account," she used 
to say, "and when they turned her out of the 
chapel, I told some of them they might stay away if 
they liked, but that Our Lady should never be turned 
out." The image was replaced immediately on her 
return, when the chapel ceased to be used for the ser- 
vice of the mission. 

Meanwhile, fresh and unexpected trials were in store 
for the Community. During the last visit of Bishop 
Ullathorne to Eome, it had been determined to remove 
him from the Western to the Central District, and in 
the beginning of August 1848, he left Clifton, and 
took up his residence at Birmingham. The blow was 
doubly felt by Mother Margaret at a moment when, in 
addition to her other cares, she found herself involved 
in the troubles of building, a matter in which she was 
then altogether inexperienced. The entire charge of 
the Community now devolved on her, for though his 
Lordship continued to act as Ecclesiastical Superior, 
the active part he had hitherto taken in the govern- 
ment of the Community was necessarily diminished 
by his removal to another diocese. 

At this time of trouble and desolation a new friend 
and benefactor was given to the Community in the 
person of the Rev. Frederic Neve, who, soon after his 
ordination and appointment to the mission of Clifton, 
became chaplain and director to the convent. On the 
22d of September 1848, he made his profession as a 
Tertiary of the Dominican Order in the hands of the 
Provincial, and received the necessary powers for 
erecting the Confraternity of the Eosary. " It would 
do you good," writes Mother Margaret, "to see our 



92 CLIFTON. 

little chapel now on Bosary-nights. We have our 
Divine Mother in it, and things in our own fashion. 
Many have already been received into the Confrater- 
nity." The custom began of a short instruction being 
delivered by the chaplain on Eosary- evenings, and this 
attracted many hearers. The preachers first discourse 
was on the subject of humility, and he enforced his 
lesson by begging the prayers of the people to assist 
him in his work. In "those fruitful days," as one 
writer calls them, the little chapel was always crowded, 
and the only place which the Eeligious could occupy 
was the passage before mentioned, where they heard 
Mass through the window. 

Bishop Ullathorne had been succeeded in the Western 
District by Dr Hendren, who proved himself a kind 
and sincere friend to the Community. Sadly as she 
felt the loss of Bishop Ullathorne, Mother Margaret's 
respect for the episcopal office moved her to give his 
successor a festive welcome, as she had seen done in 
Belgium on similar occasions. She even exerted her- 
self to make him an offering out of the slender funds 
of the Community, for the service of the diocese, in 
acknowledging which he condescended to say : " It is 
I, rather, who should make this offering to you ; for 
the evening services at your chapel are sanctifying my 
people" One of the first acts after his appointment 
was to give permission for Benediction of the Blessed 
Sacrament at the convent chapel on certain feast-days, 
and Mother Margaret writes of this, in a kind of 
rapture — " Bishop Hendren has signed the book ! I 
feel richer than if 1 possessed £1000 ; for if with time 
we can have all these devotions, it will save thousands 
of souls. I have no other wish, will, or desire, but 



CLIFTON. 93 

to extend God's reign upon earth. We have told the 
poor people that the chapel is theirs, and that they 
must be at home in it." 

If Mother Margaret's anxieties were at this time 
increased by the weight of temporal cares, it must also 
be owned that the proofs of God's bounty and provi- 
dence which the Community daily received were suffi- 
cient to inspire them with confidence. One notable 
answer to prayer occurred in the autumn of this year. 
After the chapel at Clifton had been given up to the 
use of the Eeligious, they formed a portion of it into 
their choir; but their poverty did not at first admit 
of their procuring stalls. Mother Margaret, however, 
could not rest satisfied till the choir was properly fur- 
nished; and, after debating for some time whether 
she should venture on so large an order at a time when 
she had not a sixpence to spend, she determined to 
run the risk, and to leave it to Providence to supply 
the means. The stalls were accordingly ordered, at a 
cost of £30, which in those days was a sort of fabu- 
lous sum, and many were the prayers offered up that, 
when they arrived, the money might in some way be 
found to pay for them. On the very day that they 
were set up in the chapel a letter came by post en- 
closing the exact sum. Another story, belonging to 
this year, will perhaps raise a smile in those who are 
not accustomed to the notion of providential interfer- 
ence manifesting itself in such homely details. When 
Christmas approached, Mother Margaret was anxious 
to regale her children with better fare than ordinary; 
she wished much to give them a Christmas turkey, but 
did not feel quite justified in buying one. She there- 
fore told them that if they wanted a turkey they must 



94 CLIFTON, 

pray for it — a command they in all simplicity obeyed. 
When Christmas Eve came, a ring was heard at the 
bell, and one of the Sisters exclaimed, in joke, " That 
is the turkey !" She ran to open the door, and found 
that a man was actually waiting outside with a turkey 
in his hand that had been sent as a present. She 
carried it in high glee to the Community-room, and 
the Sisters were still amusing themselves over the in- 
cident, when another ring came, and another turkey, 
and a little later a goose, and so on, till they found 
that they were not only supplied with a Christmas- 
dinner themselves, but were able to give one also to 
their children and old women. 

In the April of 1849, the Community received an 
accession of four members. Two of these were sisters 
whose vocation was decided during Bishop Ullathorne's 
visit to Rome in 1847. 

Previous to this last addition to their numbers, the 
Eeligious had been making a Novena to St Theresa 
for new subjects, and had specially been praying that 
some might join them capable of assisting the services 
of the choir. Their prayers were granted, and on her 
return home Mother Margaret soon discovered that 
the Sister who was "to settle the Latin and the music" 
had been sent to her at last. 

The main part'of the convent was meanwhile rapidly 
advancing towards completion, and the Eeligious took 
possession of it in the month of July. The bell, which 
had already been solemnly blessed by Bishop Hendren, 
was suspended in the bell-tower, and the Angelus 
began to sound over Clifton thrice a- day. The cloisters 
connecting the convent with the chapel were begun in 
the autumn of the same year, and completed through 



CLIFTON. 95 

the generous assistance of the Rev. F. Neve ; the stair- 
case communicating with the present orphanage being 
excavated at tremendous risk to the safety of the 
entire building. Thus by degrees the convent assumed 
a regular form, and the Community continued at the 
same time to increase in numbers, which latter circum- 
stance, while it rejoiced Mother Margaret's heart, filled 
her with many anxieties. " My head is tired with 
thinking," she writes, " and my soul is oppressed with 
sadness, when I look round and see fifteen souls com- 
mitted to my care, and I without knowledge or ability 
to guide them. I feel very anxious about their spiri- 
tual direction, and wish that more of us were tho- 
roughly formed. I feel the loss of your paternal care 
more than ever ; so many white heads, and only myself 
to guide them." 

The year 1849 had been one of internal develop- 
ment, and promised to be followed by one of external 
expansion. Many proposals were received for esta- 
blishing the Sisters in various parts of England ; and 
at one time the liberal offer made by the Dominican 
Fathers of resigning to the Community the chapel 
and land occupied by them at Chilvers Coton, about 
five miles from Hinckley, appeared to point out 
this spot as the probable site of the future Novitiate 
which Mother Margaret purposed locating in the 
Central District. Coton was in the immediate neigh- 
bourhood of Weston Hall, where Mr De Bary had 
now fixed his residence, and it was at no great distance 
from Coventry. 

Many causes, therefore, combined, as it seemed, to 
attract Mother Margaret to this part of the country, 
whilst, at the same time, her desire daily increased to 



96 CLIFTON. 

fix the Novitiate House in some more retired spot 
than Clifton. " I think/' she says, in her correspon- 
dence with Bishop Ullathorne, " that were you now 
with us, you would judge it quite necessary that we 
should have a place where there is not much work, 
that we may be able to train the novices to a more 
spiritual life, and that they may have time to learn 
the Rule, Constitutions, and Office. As it is, they are 
set to work directly, and have not time to be trained ; 
always giving out, and taking nothing in, which in time 
would be the destruction of all spirituality. If you 
make them truly spiritual, they will become fit instru- 
ments in God's hands to work for His glory." Her 
idea of the Central Novitiate was, that it should be the 
model-house of the Institute, and she therefore desired 
that, whilst enjoying the advantage of a retired situa- 
tion, it should include every institution of charity 
which could be carried on within its own enclo- 
sure. Her notion of spirituality, and even of retire- 
ment, never excluded the idea of labour. She 
often loved to quote the words of St John of the 
Cross, "Work, suffer, and be silent," as embodying 
the essentials of religious life. It is thus she ex- 
presses herself on the subject at this very time : a It 
is no use persons coming to us who are not willing to 
suffer everything for the salvation of souls. They 
must have a heroic spirit, and be ready to bear heat, 
cold, fatigue, and every other inconvenience. It is 
easier to say that we delight in mean and abject em- 
ployments, than it is to do them. We have had expe- 
rience of this, and all would prefer to wear a hair 
shirt or a chain, than to clean the kitchen, wash, iron, 
or cook ; though God has commanded all to earn their 



CLIFTON. 97 

bread in the sweat of their brow. This is quite lost 
sight of, and is almost looked upon as a disgrace. Yet 
it is certain that Our Lord, in working as a carpenter, 
must have fulfilled the command, and Our Blessed 
Lady had no servants to wait on her. The more I see 
of human nature, the more I feel certain that humble 
and laborious employments are the best mortification, 
the shortest way to obtain true humility, and to make 
us have a proper feeling of charity towards the labo- 
rious and the poor. We can ill give lessons to others 
of things we have not ourselves experienced." 

She desired, therefore, that the Novitiate House 
should be a school of mortification and the interior 
life ; but, at the same time, that all such charitable 
institutions should be annexed to it as would give the 
novices an opportunity of becoming practically trained 
in those heroic duties in the service of their neighbour, 
which formed so essential a part of the life they 
aspired to embrace. 

The year closed in the midst of these hopes and 
projects for the future, with which, however, both 
humiliations and crosses were mingled. The busy 
tongue of gossip did not spare the rising Institute, and 
all the world did not understand the principles that 
guided Mother Margaret's conduct. What most per- 
plexed the curious public was her lavish expendi- 
ture on all that concerned the service of God, at a 
time when they had good reasons for believing that 
the Community was enduring many of the straits of 
poverty. They argued, that if Mother Margaret were 
really in want of money, it was strange that she should 
burn so many candles in the chapel ; and they never 
dreamt that at the very time when remarks of this 

G 



<)8 CLIFTON'. 

kind were in circulation she was writing to her Sisters 
on the subject of their money difficulties, " Do not burn 
one candle less in honour of Our Lord, or His Blessed 
Mother ; we must be sparing to ourselves, but not to 
God." Yet she was far from being indifferent to hostile 
criticism ; we might even say that she was at all times 
keenly sensitive to unfriendly strictures which betrayed 
a less generous standard of principles than her own. 

" I cannot explain the state of my soul at present/' 
she writes ; "I feel I have much to do for God, and 
I wish to do it, and I have at the same time such 
a desire of solitude that I would run into any obscure 
place to be alone with God. There are so many re- 
marks made about our active duties ; some think that 
what we do is to get a name ; and when we decorate 
our little chapel there are also unkind remarks. I 
can say, with truth, I have not the least sensible satis- 
faction in these things. For before a feast the body 
is very weary, and the soul very depressed, seeing that 
when we have done our best we have done nothing 
for so great, so good a God. I have more feelings of 
discontent than anything else. Indeed, when I see 
least I see most, and in seeing nothing I see all things. 
Whatever exterior works we do, I hope it is purely for 
the glory of God and the salvation of souls/' 

Meanwhile, plans had been formed for establishing 
a filiation at Bridgwater, in Somersetshire ; whilst, at 
the same time, the earlier project of founding in the 
Central " District was not laid aside. About Easter, 
Mother Margaret proceeded with one companion to 
Staffordshire, for the purpose of examining some of the 
localities proposed for this latter foundation. She 
visited Hinckley and Longton, and paid a short visit 



CLIFTON. 99 

to St Benedict's Priory, where, for the first time, she 
became personally acquainted with the venerable 
Mother Prioress. She also visited Weston Hall, 
where the zeal and piety of Mr and Mrs De Bary 
were producing some remarkable results. Both were 
professed Franciscan Tertiaries, and from the period 
of their conversion to the Catholic faith, they gave 
themselves up to the service of God with the entire 
devotion of Eeligious. 

They lived at Weston Hall in a certain style of holy 
and primitive simplicity. A room in the upper part 
of the house was arranged as a chapel for the use of 
the mission which was served by one of the Domini- 
can Fathers from Hinckley ; whilst the great Hall was 
converted into a poor-school, which Mrs De Bary 
taught herself. There was an odour of antique 
piety about the whole establishment which charmed 
Mother Margaret's heart ; and she often described her 
delight in seeing the crowds of country people who 
gathered there on Sundays, their hobnailed boots 
making free with the oak staircase, and all their voices 
heartily united in singing the plain-chant Mass. After 
that time she frequently visited Weston Hall in the 
course of her journeys to and from Staffordshire, and 
always met with the same affectionate welcome. 

" Every one in the house," writes one who formed 
her first acquaintance with Mother Margaret in the 
course of these visits, " seemed to feel the joy of her 
presence, and the people would stop and linger about 
the house to catch a sight of her. Mrs De Bary's affec- 
tion for her was that of a child for a mother. In her 
last sickness, when so ill that all other letters had to be 
read to her, she would always read Mother Margaret's 



1 00 CLIFTON. 

letters herself, and her greatest pleasure was to talk 
about her. I well remember her last attempt to write 
to her \ it was the last time she ever sat upright." 

Nothing definite regarding the Staffordshire founda- 
tion was decided at this time ; and it was arranged 
that the filiation at Bridgwater should first be tried. 
As usual, Mother Margaret had to pass through a 
crucible of interior suffering before beginning this new 
undertaking. " I am more depressed than I can 
express this last week," she writes, in a letter alluding 
to the preparations that were in hand ; " I see only the 
naked cross, without anything to support nature. I am 
glad to be alone to give vent to what I feel. Make 
me a saint, my dear Father, cost what it will ! I never 
have, nor do I expect, rest in this world ; but, with 
your help, I hope to get eternal rest. Ask the Holy 
Ghost for me, my dear Father, that I may only think, 
speak, and act by the influence of that Divine Spirit." 

The Bridgwater foundation was dedicated to Our 
Lady of Good Counsel, a beautiful picture bearing 
that title, by the German artist Seitz, which had been 
indulgenced by the Sovereign Pontiff, having been pre- 
sented for the chapel of the new convent by Spencer 
Northcote, Esq. It was opened on the first Sunday 
in July, 1850, but this first filiation of the com- 
munity was not destined to take root. The Religious 
continued there only until the April of 1851, when 
the difficulties which arose in the way of their making 
a permanent establishment in the town, added to the 
necessity of providing for the more important founda- 
tion in Staffordshire, obliged them to withdraw. 
When the convent was finally broken up, the picture 
of Our Lady of Good Counsel was removed to Clifton, 



FOUND A TION A T LONGTON. IO 1 

where it was placed over Our Lady's altar in the convent 
chapel, which was undergoing some important altera- 
tions. Hitherto the stalls of the Eeligious had occu- 
pied the body of the chapel, and their position was 
consequently very exposed. It was now proposed 
to convert into an up-stairs choir that portion of 
the house which projected into the chapel, at the 
same time raising the roof and enlarging the sanctuary, 
and the proposed alterations were accordingly begun 
in the month of September 1850, two wings of the 
cloister being meanwhile given up to serve the pur- 
poses of church and choir. 



CHAPTER VII. 

FOUND A TION A T LONGTON, 

In the autumn of the same year which had witnessed 
the establishment of the Bridgwater Community, 
Mother Margaret found herself called upon to com- 
mence a far more important foundation in Stafford- 
shire. Longton, in the Potteries, had been selected by 
Bishop Ullathorne as the site of the convent which 
he desired to see established in his diocese. A large 
and densely populated town, it is situated in the 
midst of what was once a fine open country, which 
the hand of man has sadly disfigured. Undermined 
in every direction by coal-pits, which in some places 
approach so near the surface as to render the houses 
above them insecure, and to allow of the vibrations 
from the underground excavations and explosions 
being distinctly felt, and lit up at night by the grim, 
glaring furnaces, which impress the spectator who 



10 2 F0 UN DA TION A T LONG TON. 

first beli olds them with a sensation of awe, Longton, 
with its sister towns in that strange district, presents 
a feature of English society of which the refined and 
luxurious classes know but little. 

The house which had been taken for the Sisters 
was rented from the Railway Company. It had been 
built, at considerable expense, some years previously, 
in a style rather unusual for the neighbourhood, and 
bore the title of "The Foley." Mother Margaret 
had not seen it when, on the 23d of October 1850, 
she left Clifton for Staffordshire attended by one 
companion. Its forlorn aspect, and the general 
appearance of the town, struck Mother Margaret's 
heart with a sense of extreme desolation. Everything 
looked black and dismal, except the furnaces, the 
constant glare of which kept her awake at night, and 
reminded her, as she said, of the infernal regions. 
" The Foley," with its smart cornices, was empty and 
dirty. The autumn rains were flooding the cellars, 
and rendering the black soil so slippery that, as she 
described it in her first letter to Clifton, they were in 
danger, each time they went out, of breaking their 
legs. This letter bears traces of having been written 
under the first unfavourable impressions, and its 
portraiture of Longton is far from prepossessing. 

But as time wore on, Longton, in spite of many 
discouragements, yielded its harvest of consolation ; 
and, ere a fortnight was over, Mother Margaret was 
beginning to pray for larger means, " to moralise a 
people with scarce an instinct of God," and to cherish 
hopes of one day raising saints, as she expressed it, 
out of the Longton mud. During her stay in 
Staffordshire she spent a few hours at St Benedict's 



FO UNDA TION AT L ONG TON, 1 03 

Priory, and also visited some of the neighbouring 
missions, the poverty of which caused her a keen 
distress. At Stoke-upon-Trent she found that the 
school was held in the chapel, and that the Blessed 
Sacrament was reserved in a pewter ciborium. The 
emotion which this caused her was the immediate 
cause of an illness which lasted some months. " My 
throat swelled," she said, "and I felt choking." 
With her heart still full to overflowing, she wrote to 
her Religious at Clifton : " We went yesterday to 
the Chapel at Stoke ; and oh, my Sisters ! I cannot 
tell you what I have felt since ! A total want of all 
things ! Our Lord and God in a pewter ciborium, gilt 
a little on the inside ! and not one decent thing in 
the place. How can we expect the people to be con- 
verted 1 They have nothing to attract them ; and 
how can they believe us when we instruct them in 
the Eeal Presence 1 They may well doubt the faith 
of Catholics — the Lord of heaven and earth in pewter 
for the love of us, and His creatures using silver for 
the meanest purposes : I am almost wearying my 
beloved Spouse to give me money. We must do 
something for this place." And, in fact, with the 
generous assistance of the Community of St Benedict's 
Priory, whence this letter was written, the most press- 
ing wants of the Stoke chapel were afterwards 
supplied ; although, at the time when Mother 
Margaret was begging for this mission, in which she 
was no way personally interested, she had still every- 
thing to provide for her new foundation. In the 
same letter she speaks of the kindness of the nuns in 
lending her a chalice for Longton, " till we have one 
of our own." 



104 F0 UNDA TION AT L ONG TON". 

Mother Margaret returned to Clifton after an 
absence of three weeks. It had been hoped that St 
Catherine's Chapel would have been finished in time 
to have been opened on the Feast of the Immaculate 
Conception, but as this was not the case, the Blessed 
Sacrament was on that day exposed for adoration in 
the chapter-room, then used as a choir. Its sacred pre- 
sence, so unusually near, inspired Mother Margaret 
with extraordinary devotion, and she owned to 
one of her Sisters that in a transport of fervour she 
could hardly restrain herself from rushing to the altar 
and clasping Our Lord in her arms. 

On the 26th of December, the Feast of St Stephen 
Protomartyr, the alterations of the chapel being 
completed, it was solemnly consecrated by the Bishop 
of Clifton, and dedicated to the Holy Rosary and St 
Catherine of Sienna. Mother Margaret's feelings on 
this occasion can be guessed by those only who know 
the spirit in which she regarded the rites and bene- 
dictions of the Church. The possession of a con- 
secrated church was in her eyes a gift, a privilege, a 
special means of grace, to be numbered among God's 
choicest favours. The following year, when the 
decoration of the chapel was completed, and the whole 
of the interior beautifully painted, she poured out 
her heart, not in a letter, but in a prayer, which is still 
preserved in her own handwriting. 

It was whilst these decorations were in progress 
that Mother Margaret one day took occasion, in the 
absence of the workmen, to examine everything, and 
the novices were summoned to accompany her. 

Every one admired the jewel-like effect of the 
painting, but her quick eye perceived that all the 



FO UNDA TION AT L ONG TON. I O 5 

gold had been placed on the outside of the sanctuary- 
arch, facing the people, and that there was none on 
the inside, which faces the altar, and is out of sight 
from the body of the chapel. She was much dis- 
pleased. " If those men had faith," she said, " they 
would never have stuck all the gold on the side that 
faces the people and put none on the side that faces 
Our Lord ! " About the same time she wrote : " Our 
little chapel will be very beautiful ; but, my dear 
Father, I shall never be satisfied, for when I look at 
it, I think how poor, how mean it is, for our God 
with us. I wish I were rich, that I might cut out 
Solomon's Temple ! " 

At the close of the year 1850, the Community 
numbered fifteen professed Religious, two novices, 
and six postulants. The last day of the old year had 
been marked by a memorable circumstance ; the 
black habit had been laid aside for ever, and hence- 
forward the Eeligious assumed their proper livery, 
the white wool of St Dominic. 

The rapid extension of their work gave rise mean- 
while to the discussion of an important question, and 
for the first time elicited from Mother Margaret a 
strong expression of her opinions on the subject of 
education. The Sisters were now conducting the 
Clifton poor-schools, a middle pension-school within 
their own convent, and other schools at Bridgwater ; 
whilst at Longton it was evident that schools of every 
kind would form their principal means of usefulness. 
They had hitherto worked on independent of all aid 
and all inspection; although the advantages to be 
derived from Government support were continually 
urged on Mother Margaret's attention, and probably 



I C 6 FO UNDA TION AT L ONG TON. 

the hardest things ever said of her were occasioned 
by her resistance on this point. 

The following extract -from a letter, written about 
this time, will give some insight into her sentiments 
on the subject: — " I cannot but think that Old Harry 
has something to do with this great school movement. 
In the end it will turn out a hindrance to Religious 
teaching the poor. We know the pride and vanity 
of England ; how most people run after anything 
new; and where money is the object, they become 
worshippers directly. I think you will find that 
when the Eeligious have prepared their pupil- 
teachers, these will take precedence of their mis- 
tresses. 1 fear it will be in England as it always 
has been ; mind and body will be taught, and the 
poor soul (the only precious part of man) will be left 
in ignorance. I do not know what I am writing 
about, but I have asked Our Lord so many times to 
let me see it in the true light, and I always have the 
same impressions. I say, again, perhaps I am too 
stupid to understand what I am writing. I wish we 
had schools to teach humility and love of the Cross 
— the only lesson our Divine Master, the Eternal 
Wisdom, has wished us to learn of Him." 

Her paramount care was for the education of the 
soul, a thing she instinctively felt would sooner or 
later be sacrificed by any national system ; and who 
shall say that on this point her instinct did not guide 
her aright ? But she was not on that account indif- 
ferent to the education of the mind, although in 
regard of the poor she considered that it should have 
its limitations; and she held fast to the old-fashioned 
notion that a knowledge of needlework may do a 



FO UNDA TION AT L ONG TON, I O 7 

poor girl more useful service than a knowledge of 
grammar. 

On the 6th of January 1851, a little colony of 
Beligious left Clifton for Longton, where Mother 
Margaret's first care was to convert the drawing-room 
of the Foley into a very devout chapel. As soon as 
it was arranged, she applied to the Bishop for per- 
mission to have the Blessed Sacrament reserved ; for, 
she says, " I never feel courage till we have our Lord 
in the house/' This was granted, and the Eev. J. 
Dixon was appointed chaplain to the convent. Pre- 
parations were immediately made for beginning a 
middle-class pension-school in the house ; the stables 
were turned into a poor-school, and a night-school 
was also opened, in which the Sisters very soon had 
the consolation of receiving nearly eighty girls, who 
w r ere employed during the day at the pottery-works. 
The chapel being open to the people for Mass and 
evening services, they resorted to it in such numbers 
as to fill not only the chapel, but every available 
standing-place in the hall and staircase. Mother 
Margaret's letters to her Sisters at Clifton, written 
in the first effusion of zeal, overflow with her ever- 
expanding desires to do more for God and for souls. 
" Praij, pray I my dear children, and be ready to 
make any sacrifice to save souls and advance God's 
Church on earth. See how little He makes Himself 
for ungrateful man ! Pray much for the Potteries : 
I have put them in a particular manner under the 
protection of our Holy Father. ... I think our 
Lord sends me from place to place to stir me up." 

The slender numbers of the Communities, and the 
paramount importance of first providing for the 



108 FOUNDA TION A T LONGTON. 

necessities of Longton, obliged her to refuse many 
applications made about this time for filiations in 
other parts of England. " How wonderful are the 
ways of God with His unworthy creatures ! " she 

writes. " We are asked for in all places. Dr 

said he would go down on his knees if we would go 
into his district. The work begun with such poor 
materials begins to flourish in spite of all the knocks 
it has had." 

From this time her daily course of labour began to 
include that constant and minute correspondence 
with her absent children, which increased with the 
multiplication of her convents, until it gradually 
withdrew her from almost every other work. The 
prodigious extent of this correspondence can only be 
roughly estimated, but the letters preserved amount to 
a surprising number. They present a true portraiture 
of the soul of the writer, and are as many-sided and 
as remarkable for that mixture of elevation and 
simplicity, which made one of her friends truly 
remark — " Mother Margaret was a wonderful woman, 
the most extraordinary combination of the natural 
and the supernatural that ever lived. ; ' From the 
sublimest ideas, expressed in the sublirnest language, 
she could turn to the homeliest practical details. If 
the loftiness of her style on spiritual matters reminds 
you of St Catherine of Sienna, no less does the terse- 
ness of her shrewd remarks recall St Theresa. Per- 
haps the most remarkable feature in Mother Margaret's 
epistolary style, however, was the facility with which 
she adapted it to the individual character of each 
one whom she addressed. With some she was pithy 
and laconic, and, if perfectly at her ease, would 



FO UNDA TION A T LONGTON. 1 09 

convey her direction or her reproofs in a certain 
axiomatic language that forcibly reminds you of St 
Theresa. At other times she was tender, expansive, 
eloquent. Her letters addressed to her Communities 
on different Feasts might be cited in proof of this, 
but her private correspondence with her- religious 
children is often couched in a style of singular beauty. 
" I fear you will have had a good share, my beloved 
child/' she writes to one, " in the trials in which our 
Beloved favours His chosen ones. Why do I use the 
word fear ? They are the best gifts of God ; each 
trial is a proof of His watchful love. He must be very, 
very near us when we feel the thorns with which He is 
crowned. It is a time of harvest when we get alone 
with God. Then love gains strength. The more we 
know, the more we desire to know and love this God 
of love — our one, our true, our only Lover ! " 

In reading some of her letters to her children you 
would think you had opened a page of the Canticles. 
" I must not forget you, although you are so little. 
Little as you are, I wish you to grow less and less, 
that your Divine Spouse may have the joy of saying 
to you, ' Come, my little one, my love, my dove, 
come, and grow great in my kingdom.' " A chantress 
is in anxiety lest the Holy Week services should not 
be rightly performed for want of proper singers. 
" Leave all to God/' she writes to her ; "do your 
best, and be resigned. Keep close to your Divine 
and suffering Spouse. He had no soft music to still 
His pains. His music was the wicked cries of the 
multitude. Oh, how condescending of our loving 
God to allow us in some way to soothe His sorrowing 
heart by the expression of our love ! For I know, 



IIO FO UN DA TION AT L ONG TON. 

my child, that you do love Him, and I love Him too. 
Cold as the feeling is, He will accept it : so let us 
love, be humble, and take all things with tranquillity. ° 
Occasionally her most sublime and touching effusions 
of heart terminate in some familiar little trait of 
maternal tenderness. " Let God alone be your refuge 
and strength," she writes to a local superioress, on the 
eve of a great feast of the Order. " A few minutes 
spent before the most Adorable Sacrament will obtain 
you more light than any counsel of creatures. God 
bless you all, my children, and make you all like our 
sainted ancestors. Mind you have rolls for breakfast 
to-morrow, and a good recreation in the afternoon." 
This last quotation may possibly scandalise some, 
as addressed to a Community of Sisters of Penance. 
We will risk its insertion, however, having heard one, 
who had a good right to judge, declare, after perusing 
these letters, that nothing in them struck him so 
much as these expressions of indulgence towards a 
far-off colony of her children, who, as she well knew, 
needed to be cheered amid the black mud of Longton. 
We will venture on even a more startling extract, or 
what may possibly seem so in the eyes of the world. 
Who that knew Mother Margaret can have been 
insensible to her spirit of hospitality % It was, like 
her faith, on the true antique model. She had a real 
delight in entertaining guests, and making them at 
home, and — shall we add it % — in providing them 
with a good dinner. As to priests, she felt she could 
not do enough to secure the health and comfort of 
those who laboured day and night in the service of 
the Lord. So when she heard that some of the 
Fathers were going on a visit to Longton, she writes 



FO UNDA TION A T LONGTON". Ill 

at once — " on hospitable thoughts intent " — " Get a 
large piece of beef, and a leg of lamb for their dinner, 
pease and potatoes, and a good bread and butter 
pudding, and a fruit pie ; and get them some good 

beer." And on another occasion, " I hope Sister • 

has thought of making some mince-meat. You must 
have some mince-pies and plum-puddings for Christ- 
mas ; and give Father something good some- 
times, and a good supper at night. " 

However, not to leave the reader under the im- 
pression that the rolls for breakfast and Christmas 
puddings may be taken as a sample of her ordinary 
directions in the matter of creature comforts, we will 
close these passing extracts with some of a different 
character, the tenor of which was of far more frequent 
repetition. When the Lenten Indults of the year 
1866 appeared, granting the faithful some increased 
dispensations, she wrote to all her convents, " The 
new dispensations make no difference to us : all we 
have got to do is to fast and pray the more." " The 
nearer we keep to all our rule prescribes the more 
God will help us. A relaxed house is my greatest 
dread. I would rather see you all die of hard work 
and austerity, or pestilence." At the close of a Lent 
she writes, a It is a joy and a comfort to me to know 
that all my dear children have been fasting, and 
abstaining, and keeping to all the austerities of the 
Order. It is some reparation for the sensuality of 
the day. Thank God we work hard, pray hard, and 
live hard ; may it be so to the end ! " " Abstinence 
never hurt any one ; if our heart is in our work, what 
does the food signify ? Let the body die and go to 
heaven." She was no friend to that over-solicitude 



112 FO UNDA TION AT L ONG TON. 

for health which is the canker-worm of generosity, 
and the cloak of a subtle self-indulgence, but made 
continual war upon it, often reminding her Religious 
that " no one would die before their time ; and that 
if they died of over-work or fasting, what better 
could they desire T' It must be added, however, that- 
in cases of real necessity no one granted dispensations 
with a freer heart than Mother Margaret, whose 
tenderness towards the sick was unvarying. 

Meanwhile events were taking place of considerable 
importance to the Dominican Order at large, and the 
English province in particular. The Passionist Fathers 
having withdrawn from the mission of Woodchester, 
the church built there through the munificence of W. 
Leigh, Esq., was, at the recommendation of Bishop 
Ullathorne, offered to the Dominican Fathers, who 
had by this time established themselves there. They 
were now in expectation of receiving a visit from the 
newly-appointed Vicar-General of the Order, the Most 
Reverend Vincent Alexander Jandel, who was nomi- 
nated to that office by his Holiness in July 1850. 
He immediately began the visitation of the Provinces, 
and rumours were now afloat that he might any day 
be expected in England. It was of course desirable 
that Mother Margaret and her religious Sisters should 
take the opportunity of soliciting his protection • and 
a letter was consequently drawn up in her name and 
addressed to his Paternity, giving a brief sketch of 
the origin and progress of the Community, its object 
and rule. A kind reply to this letter was received on 
the 8th of July, and on the 13th of August his Pater- 
nity arrived at Clifton, the whole Community, headed 
by the Chaplain, receiving him at the door of the 



FO UNDA TION A T LONG TON 1 1 3 

convent, and conducting him processionally to the 
Choir, .where he delivered a short address in 
French. 

It had been determined to request his Paternity to 
give the habit to two postulants, then preparing for 
their clothing, and as he was necessarily obliged to 
leave Clifton the following morning, the ceremony had 
to be performed after the evening service. Arrange- 
ments for the purpose were therefore made with 
extraordinary celerity, and the members of the Con- 
fraternity of the Eosary who attended that evening 
were not a little taken by surprise on entering the 
chapel to find it transformed into a temporary choir, 
and to be informed how very interesting a function 
was about to take place. 

The Father-General left Clifton on the morning of 
the 14th, and proceeded to Hinckley, where, in concert 
with the Very Eev. Father Aylward, he drew up a 
petition to be sent to the Holy See, in which, after 
stating the powers and jurisdiction over the Eeligious 
Sisters of the Third Order, which by advice of the 
English Fathers, he had delegated to the Bishop of 
Birmingham for life, he prays for a confirmation of 
these powers, in the name both of himself and of his 
Lordship. 

The Papal Eescript, granting the prayer of this 
petition, salvis juribus ordinariorum, is dated August 
31, 1851. 

The joy caused by these events was damped by 
Mother Margaret's daily increasing indisposition. In 
fact the state of her health at this time caused her 
Community the gravest uneasiness. From one of her 
own letters we gather that she was dreading an attack 

H 



114 F0 UNDA TION AT LONG TON". 

on the brain, that painful sores had opened on her head, 
arms, sides, and knees, and that the doctors insisted 
on perfect freedom from business as affording the 
only chance of cure. Fears were entertained lest her 
malady should result in softening of the brain ; and 
her weakness was so extreme, that when she thought 
herself unobserved she would drag herself through the 
cloister, holding by the window seats. At length she 
consented to try the effect of sea-air, and by the advice 
of her medical attendants she set out, on the 18th of 
August, for Bangor. On her way thither she stopped 
at Holywell, w T here she unexpectedly met with F. 
Aylward, who was staying there, and who accom- 
panied her on her first visit to St Winifred's Well. 
But for him she would probably never have found 
courage to have entered those icy waters ; indeed, the 
doing so seemed a rash experiment, for she was at 
that time suffering from erysipelas, which, being 
driven in by the shock of the water, might well have 
proved dangerous. But he bade her have courage, 
telling her he would go to the chapel and pray for 
her whilst she was bathing. The effect of the bath 
was decidedly favourable ; she felt no bad results from 
the suppression of the eruption, and that night had 
the first uninterrupted sleep which she had not en- 
joyed for many months ; indeed, for six w x eeks pre- 
viously she had been suffering from complete insomnia. 
Her gratitude for this favour was of the warmest kind, 
and she determined, on her return from Bangor, to 
pay a longer visit at Holywell, for the purpose of 
making a No vena to St Winifred, and taking the 
baths during each of the nine days. 

She accordingly returned to Holywell, and began 



FO UNDA 7 ION AT L ONG TON. I I 5 

her No vena on the 8th of September, the Feast of 
Our Lady's Nativity. The sight of the ragged and 
suffering pilgrims from all parts of England, Ireland, 
and even America, crossing themselves and praying 
aloud ere they entered the healing waters, and of the 
crutches and other votive offerings suspended among 
the antique tracery above the empty niche, by those 
who had come there maimed and diseased and had 
departed sound, was a consolation to her faith. " To 
see such things in England /" she exclaimed ; " it is 
like a Catholic country." " You must come here, and 
look at this wonderful well," she writes to a friend ; 
" if it is not miraculous, it is at least one of the won- 
derful works of God. 1 could look at it for ever ; 
but at present you cannot be there for many minutes 
for the quantity of people of all sorts, Protestants as 
well as Catholics, with all sorts of diseases. And yet 
they will not believe its real cause ; they say it is 
wonderful water, and that is all : I am almost in a 
passion with them ! " She revisited Holywell on two 
other occasions, being both times accompanied by one 
of her Eeligious, who writes as follows : " I had the 
happiness of twice accompanying our dearest Mother 
to St Winifred's Well. I remember the first time she 
entered the water she was very timid ; but she imme- 
diately made the sign of the Cross, and prayed with 
such faith and fervour that it moved all who saw her. 
Once when we were there a poor paralytic woman 
was brought to the well ; it was beautiful to see our 
Mother kneeling by the well praying aloud to St 
Winifred for the cure of this poor creature. I could 
not help thinking, at the time, how like the scene 
before me was to what we so often read of in the 



1 1 6 FOUND A TION A T LONGTON. 

Gospels." After her first visit to Holywell, Mother 
Margaret endeavoured to propagate the devotion to 
St Winifred by every means in her power. She in- 
duced many persons to visit the holy well, or to use 
the moss or water of St Winifred — among others, the 
Most Eev. Master-General, who, in his last visit to 
England, made a pilgrimage of thanksgiving to Holy- 
well ; and when the church at Stone was in course of 
erection, she had one of the side chapels dedicated to 
St Winifred, and caused a little font to be placed in 
it, which is kept constantly supplied with water from 
the well, and is often resorted to by the people. 

From Holywell Mother Margaret proceeded 
to Staffordshire, visiting St Benedict's Priory, on 
her way to Longton. This journey had been 
undertaken with a particular purpose. The Father- 
General, during his stay in England, had ex- 
pressed his wish that the Novitiate House might 
be transferred to the diocese of Birmingham. This 
had always been Mother Margaret's intention, and 
preparatory steps had even been taken for estab- 
lishing the Novitiate at Longton. But experience 
proved that Longton was altogether unfit for the pur- 
pose. It presented a great field for active labour, but 
was not the place in which to train young Religious. 
As Mother Margaret pithily expressed it, " They 
would hear nothing but sin, and see nothing but 
mud.' ; Moreover, every effort that had been made to 
procure land in this neighbourhood had failed, all 
being in the hands of great proprietors, who refused 
to sell an acre. An offer, however, was made about 
this time by Mr James Beech, of an acre and a half 
of land situated at Stone ; and this circumstance 



FO UNDA TION A T LONGTON. 1 1 7 

finally determined the establishment of the Novitiate 
House in that locality. Stone, although within an 
easy distance of the whole Pottery District, is itself 
a healthy country town, free alike from smoke and 
potsherds, and not densely peopled by a factory 
population. The offer was therefore gratefully ac- 
cepted, and Mother Margaret went over from Long- 
ton to inspect her new possession. 

On this occasion she was accompanied by Bishop 
Ullathorne, as well as by several of her Eeligious. 
" I well remember," writes the former, " her delight 
on first visiting this property. She saw at last a 
space in which to expand. It was in October, and 
the apple-tree now standing before the window of 
the room she was wont to occupy was richly laden 
with fruit. A basketful was taken to Clifton, as a 
specimen of the produce of their future home." This 
apple-tree was threatened with destruction when the 
builders came upon the ground, but was happily 
spared, and always bore the name of " Our Mother's 
Tree." The birds that resorted to it became in after 
years the object of her special benevolence : they 
were fed by her in • the winter, and protected from 
wandering cats in the summer time. The tree, more- 
over, has another and a sweeter association. In the 
Corpus Christi processions, the last station has always 
been made at an altar erected beneath its branches. 
It was Mother Margaret's favourite station, and she 
desired that the antiphons sung there should always 
be in honour of the Blessed Virgin ; for she associ- 
ated it in her mind with two verses from the Canticle 
of Canticles : " As the apple-tree among the trees of 
the wood, so is my Beloved among the sons : as the 



1 1 8 FOUNDA TION A T LONGTON. 

lily among thorns, so is my Beloved among the 
daughters." 1 

The establishment at Stone was not by any means 
intended to supersede that at Longton, and Mother 
Margaret frequently visited the latter place, to direct 
and encourage the work of the Religious. 

These visits often gave her opportunities of per- 
sonally exercising her apostolic zeal. At Clifton 
much of her time was taken up in the parlour, and 
she was forced almost entirely to resign to her Sisters 
those labours among the poor in which she had 
hitherto taken so active a part. But at Longton she 
came in closer contact with the working-classes. 
The facility she possessed in reaching and touching a 
soul was as remarkable as her method. There was 
no circumlocution about it — she at once went straight 
to the point. The wife of one of the factory class, 
who had made a little money and risen from the 
ranks, came once to the convent at Longton, where 
she wished to place a child at school. She was a 
Protestant, and wholly destitute of education, and, 
ringing at the bell, she asked to see "the Lady." 
Mother Margaret went to the door, and heard her 
statement, that she and her husband " had no learn- 
ing," but that they wished their daughter to have 
some learning, and desired therefore, that she might 
be received in the pension-school. The conversation 
was accidentally overheard by one who has narrated 
the incident. Mother Margaret waived for the 
moment the question of " learning," and asked her 
visitor, "Do you go to any place of worship?" 
"No, ma'am." "Does your husband?" "No, 
1 Cant. ii. 3, 2. 



FO UNDA TION AT L ONG TON. 1 1 9 

ma'am." " Do you know that you have got a soul, 
and that you must take care of it % " " Yes, ma'am." 
" Then bring your husband with you, and come and 
see me again. I want to talk to you, and I '11 take 
your child." The result of this conversation is not 
known, though probably enough it ended in a con- 
version. This was her general style of opening the 
siege. She did not deal in controversy, but she 
seized the attention of her hearers, and put before 
them in strong, simple terms, God and the soul, 
heaven and hell, — the truths of eternity. An artisan 
from Birmingham once came to Stone to finish some 
work in the church, and Mother Margaret, after 
settling what was to be done, fixed her eye on him, 
and asked him if he were a Catholic. The man 
answered he was not. " What do you do for your 
soul — I suppose you know you have got one % " 
" Well, ma'am, I suppose I have." " Do you ever go 
to church 1 " " I can't say I do." When they had 
got thus far, the Sister who was present, seeing the 
turn the conversation was taking, thought it best to 
retire, and went to dinner, leaving Mother Margaret 
and her catechumen together. Presently she entered 
the refectory with a glowing countenance, and whis- 
pered to the Sister, " Go and take that man a Cate- 
chism and a ' Garden of the Soul,' and give him the 
address of a priest in Birmingham." The Sister 
obeyed, and found the poor fellow kneeling before 
one of the altars, weeping like a child. All his 
John Bull reserve had vanished. " No one," he 
said, " ever seemed before to care whether I had got 
a soul/' 

At Longton she was content to spread all nets to 



I 20 FOUNDA TION A T LONGTON'. 

catch souls. One of the Beligious wrote to her at 
Clifton, asking what they were to say to the factory 
girls as to the lawfulness of going to dancing houses ; 
she replied as follows : " You must teach the people 
to leave their sins, and do penance for them. Never 
encourage them to go to any of those places. We 
must pray and do penance for their sins as well as 
our own, and draw down the blessing of God on this 
most wicked country." But she well knew that souls 
must be drawn "by the cords of Adam." So she 
permitted the girls to assemble for little tea-parties 
from time to time in the field attached to the convent, 
and these meetings, which afforded them an innocent 
recreation, quite made up for those which she required 
them to abandon. 

After taking possession of the ground at Stone, an 
additional piece of land with some cottages on it was 
purchased by the community. The cottages were 
turned into a residence for one or two of the Sisters, 
who came over from Longton, and took charge of 
the poor school at Stone during the week, return- 
ing to Longton for Sunday. Mother Margaret's cor- 
respondence at this time is full of plans regarding the 
new foundation. " I have a convent in my head," 
she writes, u but I fear no person will ever under- 
stand it." Her feelings of fear regarding the new 
undertaking which lay before her find expression in 
several letters. "I have been suffering from great 
depression," she says, "and anxiety about temporal 
things. I try to think that all is right, and am con- 
vinced our Lord will accomplish His own work, but 
it is an interior martyrdom. It always is so when I 
have to act, trusting in Divine Providence alone ; 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 121 

and it is just as it should be, for our good God 
knows it is best for me to work without any consola- 
tion." This letter was written in the March of 1852, 
and in the August of the same year the first stone 
was laid of St Dominic's Convent. 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

st dominic's convent, stone. 

The year 1852 was memorable in the annals of the 
Community as one of expansion. The commencement 
at Stone of another convent, with all the attendant 
anxieties of building, would at all times have been a 
sufficiently grave undertaking ; but how completely it 
was in this case a work of faith and obedience may be 
judged from the fact, that at the time the contract for 
the new works was signed, the expenses of the build- 
ing at Clifton was not yet defrayed. At this moment 
Mother Margaret was greatly perplexed where to find 
the necessary funds for defraying the new expenses to 
which she had pledged herself. It was after consulting 
on the subject with one of her Eeligious that she came 
to her with a beaming countenance, exclaiming, " I 
have thought of what I will do ! " The Sister, to 
whom she spoke waited for an explanation, fully ex- 
pecting to hear that she was going to beg or borrow 
of somebody. But that was not Mother Margaret's 
way. " I will make Our Lady a present of two 
children on her Feast ! " she said ; and the two 
children were accordingly received. Nor was she 
disappointed in her hopes of thus winning the blessing 



122 ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 

of Heaven : for in no year did the Community receive a 
greater increase of members and of means than in this. 
The rapid accession of postulants raised the numbers 
at Clifton to twenty-two, and as the convent had 
only been built for twenty, they had already out- 
grown its limits. In the month of May his Eminence 
Cardinal Wiseman came to Clifton for the purpose of 
preaching a charity sermon on behalf of the Convent 
of the Good Shepherd, and during his stay he paid a 
brief visit to St Catherine's. He was received at the 
door with every solemnity, and conducted to a chair 
of state prepared in the Cloister, where all the 
Community in turn knelt and kissed his ring, and 
received his blessing. He afterwards met the Re- 
ligious in the Community-room, and entertained them 
with his accustomed affability. 

In the spring of this year, also, began a closer 
intimacy with the Fathers of the Birmingham 
Oratory, who were at that time involved in the 
troubles of the Achilli trial. 

The result of the trial is known to every one, and 
was felt by Mother Margaret, as by all Catholics, as 
a disappointment ; but few events in this w r orld are 
unmixed evils, and the frequent correspondence with 
the Birmingham Oratory, which grew out of this 
business, ripened the acquaintance which Mother 
Margaret had already formed with its respected 
Superior (Dr Newman) into friendship, — a friendship 
she cherished to the latest hour of her life, and to 
which she was accustomed to give expression with her 
characteristic heartiness and simplicity. 

During the Novena of the Immaculate Conception 
four sisters were in retreat for their clothing and four 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE* I 23 

for their profession ; qualified in Mother Margaret's 
pithy style, as " all with good wills, and not two of 
them alike." " I look round with surprise," she adds, 
"and think of the grain of mustard seed. We must 
think how to spiritualise all these young ones." And 
what, it may be asked, was her method of spiritualis- 
ing those under her care ? To answer such a question 
precisely would require lengthy treatment ; but glan- 
cing over her letters, and calling to mind the general 
tenor of her instructions, we should be disposed to 
reduce her system of religious training to two heads — 
the exact observance of the Constitutions of the Order, 
and the practice of an interior life. She valued the 
first like a true daughter of St Dominic ; and in her 
later years particularly, her letters overflowed with ex- 
hortations and prayers, that the rule might everywhere 
be observed "to the letter." But still more did she 
value an interior spirit, without which even the most 
rigid exterior observance is but a body devoid of soul. 
" I wish you would, in a particular manner, pray for 
my soul," she writes ; " for, in the midst of this mul- 
tiplicity of works and women, I fear lest, through my 
remissness, much may go wrong. They want more 
spiritual food than I can give them ; for I feel more 
than ever, that unless the religious women of the 
present day are more led to an interior and spiritual 
life, many, many evils will arise. If the head and 
the body are always at work, and the heart left un- 
trained and untaught, self will be the object, and not 
God. Do pray, and work with us, that God, and God 
alone, may be our aim." 

God alone — this was the key-note of all her teach- 
ing. The words flowed from her pen and from her 



124 ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 

lips on all occasions ; there is hardly one of her 
spiritual letters in which they do not recur. " Let us 
pray, let us love, let us live for God alone. Let a holy 
jealousy take possession of us, keeping all our thoughts, 
words, and works for Him alone. n Truly, if any were 
to ask in what Mother Margaret's idea of the interior 
life consisted, no better answer could be given than 
the words of her favourite motto — God alone. She 
meant by it the surrender of the whole heart, and the 
whole intention ; the single eye directed to God as a 
motive ; the single heart open to embrace Him as its 
end ; the single will and purpose to live for His service, 
and to seek His glory before all things. Much as she 
cared for the active works of charity, they were, after 
all, but the husk ; there was a spirit that must animate 
them, or she prized them very lightly. How often 
did she remind her children of this, and warn them, 
lest, through want of a pure intention and guard of the 
heart, they might be labouring all the day, and have 
nothing really to offer to God at its close ! How often, 
in her homely impressive language, did she urge on 
them to sanctify their work with prayer, raising their 
hearts to God by means of some simple ejaculation as 
they went about their ordinary occupations ! She was 
even jealous lest exterior works, however useful, should 
be over-valued, so as to steal away the heart from God, 
and was not altogether dissatisfied if sometimes the 
Religious engaged in the schools met with mortifying 
disappointments. " I am glad of it," she remarked on 
one such occasion, when the half-yearly examiners ex- 
pressed dissatisfaction at the state of certain classes ; 
it will teach you that your Sisters are nuns not school- 
mistresses." Sometimes she herself gave her children 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. I 25 

a practical lesson of mortification on this head. Enter- 
ing a poor school one day, she desired a Sister who 
was teaching a class to question the children before 
her. The subject was Bible history ; and one of the 
questions being, " Where did Abraham come from ?" a 
small boy called out, with some satisfaction, " From 
Mesopotamia." " What a big word!" said Mother 
Margaret: "now I'll ask him some questions;" so 
she asked him if he liked plum-pudding for dinner, and 
more to the same effect, and then left the class. The 
next time she came the children were repeating by 
heart the Latin hymns of the Blessed Sacrament, and 
were getting through them rather at a rapid rate. She 
sat down and asked them how much they understood 
of what they were saying, and then gave them a beauti- 
ful instruction on these hymns, and the reverence 
with which they should be recited. " It made me 
feel," writes the Sister who relates this anecdote, " how 
little I understood of the real spirit in which these 
children should be trained." 

It would be impossible to give all the anecdotes 
that might be quoted on this subject, or the manifold 
ingenious ways she took for purifying the intention of 
her children over their active work. When once, 
however, she was satisfied that the heart was free, 
she had no further solicitude — they might work, 
teach, play, sing, draw, write, read, and the more the 
better : she required only that it should be all for God. 
A precious maxim of hers has been preserved by a 
Eeligious of another Order, to whom she uttered it : 
"If God is in your heart, your work will never drive 
Him out of it." But if she saw in any a disposition 
to over-estimate the work of the Community before its 



126 st dominic's con vent, s tone. 

sandification, she hastened to apply a remedy. Here 
are her words to a local superioress, whose zeal she 
sought to restrain : " All excitement springs from un- 
governed nature. God is found in peace and silence, 
and one prayer from a contrite, humble spirit will do 
more than a great deal of talk. Our sisters have not 
too much time to give to God and to their own souls. 
I want no more active work for them than to do pro- 
perly what they have begun. Let them all have time 
to study what belongs to their Eule and Constitutions: 
it is by that they will be judged." 

From what has been said, it will be readily under- 
stood why Mother Margaret so often repudiated the 
character of an adive order, attributed, in common 
parlance, to her Institute. " She wisely held," says 
Bishop Ullathorne, " that such a combination of the 
active with interior life as her Congregation presented 
was as well adapted for contemplation, in favour of 
those whom God calls to it, as any enclosed house 
would be." Speaking to the juniors and novices in 
1864 of the temptations which some young persons 
get in active orders, who think that if they were in a 
purely contemplative convent they would have more 
time for prayer, she says, " A sentence of St John of 
the Cross has struck me more than anything I have 
read for a long time. It is this — ' Work, suffer, and 
be silent/ I assure you I look upon it as our motto. 
It has been such a help to me wherever I have been 
since. Contemplation does not mean kneeling down 
and saying long prayers, but it means the union of th/3 
soul with God. Who -ever reached a higher degree of 
contemplation than St John of the Cross 1 And yet 
was there ever a more active saint, labouring from 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. I 27 

morning till night to gain souls 1 You see then that 
those who lead most active lives can be contempla- 
tives ; and, indeed, I hope and feel that many of our 
Sisters have already attained to a high degree of con- 
templation." The Superioress of another Community 
having once asked her the secret of the unity which 
prevailed in her Congregation, " My Sisters," she re- 
plied, " are all so busy, they have no time for sin and 
selfishness. I like to see them go to bed thoroughly 
tired." But though she valued the active work of the 
Community, both for its own utility and as a means 
of promoting the sanctification of those engaged in it, 
she could not endure that it should be regarded either 
by the world or by her religious children themselves 
as the main object of her Institute. Hence, in the 
translation of the Constitutions made for the use of 
her Congregation, she would never allow any point of 
religious observance to be sacrificed for the sake of 
work. She dreaded that kind of activity which in one 
of her letters she characteristically describes as, " all 
go, and do, and no food for the soul." Certain points, 
which chiefly regarded the arrangement of hours, were 
regulated so as to suit the convenience of those en- 
gaged in active duties, but neither in the austerity nor 
the obligation of the rule would she admit of any miti- 
gations. For several years, indeed, the Office of Our 
Lady was substituted for the Divine Office, which 
latter was only recited on greater feasts ; but the 
number of these feasts went on annually increasing, 
and provision was distinctly made in the Constitutions 
for saying the Divine Office exclusively, whenever cir- 
cumstances should permit. 

In the matter of prayer she was not an advocate 



128 st dominic's convent, stone. 

for enforcing one system to be taught in the novitiate 
to the exclusion of any other. 

She desired that all freedom should be allowed 
to each one's attraction. " If one word suffice for 
your prayer," she writes to a young Religious, " keep 
to that word, and whatever short sentence will unite 
your heart with God. He is not found in multipli- 
city, but in simplicity of thoughts and words. We 
meditate to find God, but if our soul goes to Him 
immediately we put ourselves in prayer, we need no 
images, for we have the reality. I never could reason 
or make an imaginary scene in my life, and that is 
why the Exercises of St Ignatius do not suit me. 
Whilst I was trying to form a scene, I could ask for 
grace and mercy for the whole world, and for myself 
too. We are not all formed alike, and God is 
glorified by the variety of His creatures, so that, how- 
ever holy one practice may be for one soul, it would 
not lead another to God, and yet all are good and 
holy. If our dear Lord lives in the centre of the soul, 
(as He really does), what need have His spouses to 
look for Him elsewhere ? There He is, to hear and 
to grant all we ask ; again, when we are before our 
God in the Adorable Sacrament of the Altar, what 
need we anything else but to look and ask f v 

One little expression in the above beautiful extract 
recalls the occasion which first made it familiar to 
her. A little tract on devotion to the Sacred Heart 
was once put into her hands, in which occurred the 
following words, being, in part, a translation from 
St Catherine of Sienna : — " There He is, all God, all 
man, hidden under the whiteness of a little piece of 
bread." She read it just before the celebration of the 



ST DOMINIC ' S CONVENT, STONE. 120, 

Forty Hours, and a few days afterwards returned it to 
the Sister who had given it to her, saying, " I have 
something to thank you for. Your * There He is ' has 
never been out of my head all the Forty Hours. I 
have never once entered the church without saying to 
myself, ' There He is, there He is ! ' " and as she 
spoke, the tears were in her eyes. It became one of 
her favourite ejaculations ; and one day, long after- 
wards, when leaving the choir where the Blessed 
Sacrament was exposed, she touched the same Re- 
ligious on the arm, and indicating the altar by a quiet 
gesture, whispered to her, as if in confidence, " There 
He is ! " 

It would doubtless be presumptuous in us to 
attempt to describe the nature of her own prayer — 
she used to say of herself that she could never put 
into words what passed between her soul and God — 
but one thing may safely be affirmed, namely, that it 
bore the same character of simplicity which stamped 
itself on all her acts. Speaking to one of her religious 
children of the difficulty she found in manifesting her 
interior, as required to do by a director, " I cannot 
understand or analyse myself/' she said ; " and I 
often tell our Lord, that if I could do for Him what 
He can do for me, i" would love Him with my whole 
heart, and be perfectly humble" Possibly the facility 
she found in directing her own heart to God pre- 
vented her from thoroughly estimating the obstacles 
which some find in this exercise, and their consequent 
need of systematic help. How completely prayer had 
become like second nature to her we gather from an 
admission which she lets fall in one of her written 
manifestations. " Aspirative prayer," she writes, " is 

1 



I30 ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 

to me almost as natural as to breathe, and God is 
ever soliciting me to closer union with Him." A Reli- 
gious, a convert to the faith, once speaking to her of 
the difficulty of acquiring Catholic habits, told her 
amongst other things, how long a time it had taken 
her to acquire the habit of always raising the heart to 
God the first thing on waking in the morning. 
" What ! " said Mother Margaret in a tone of wonder, 
" don't Protestants do that] Why, child, what else 
could you have thought of?" She had been gifted from 
a child with an extraordinary and abiding sense of 
the presence of God ; and one was sometimes disposed 
to think that her prayer resolved itself into a con- 
tinuous act of that most Blessed Presence. A Re- 
ligious who knelt near her in choir has said that one 
day she heard her softly murmuring to herself, during 
the time of meditation, the words, " beautiful 
God!" and that the ejaculation and the tone in which 
it was uttered supplied her own heart with devout 
thoughts as she listened. She told another of her 
children that when before the Blessed Sacrament her 
prayer often was, " Lord, make them all saints ! " 
Or again, " Lord, deliver me from all human respect, 
double dealing, and servile fear." 

Nor, whilst speaking of the simplicity of her prayer, 
and of her instructions on that head, can we omit one 
little word of hers on the subject of the Divine Office. 
A Sister having asked her to give her some instruc- 
tions how to say it, Mother Margaret looked at her 
with some astonishment. " How are you to say it, 
child ? " she replied ; " why, say it as well as you can, 
to be sure." And when the Sister continued, "But 
what ought I to think of in saying it 1 " she replied, " I 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 131 

know nothing about all that variety of ways ; I just 
stand up before God and say it in His presence as well as 
I can." 

This love of simplicity ran through everything. 
She could not bear those little subtleties of self-love 
which she was wont to denominate " f addles." It 
mattered not what turn the weakness took, whether 
it were love of notice, desire of sympathy, affectation of 
manner, or the fancifulness so common in the weaker 
sex, it met with little mercy at her hands. She did 
not even like the assumption of religious gravity, 
especially if she detected in it the least savour of con- 
scious mannerism. She liked to see every one easy 
and natural, after her own cast and character, and was 
no advocate for fashioning the exterior of an entire 
community on one model. A religious demeanour, 
indeed, she highly valued, but one which springs from 
the mortification of nature, not the dressing of it up. 
"I never like youless, ,; she said to a young Eeligious, 
" than when you are trying to be extra good." 

The idea of a religious life which she presented to 
her novices, was one in which love of the Cross held 
a prominent place. " The end for which you have 
entered religion," she writes to one doubtful of her 
vocation, " is to become quite a new creature, and to 
be entirely transformed into Christ crucified. The 
cross and humiliations of Jesus must be your only 
aim. You are elected to be the spouse of Christ 
crucified, to follow Him in hunger and thirst, in 
nakedness and poverty, nay, even to death ; for I 
hold out no other inducements to you but the cross 
of Christ, my beloved Spouse ; if His cross and His 
love will not content you, I have nothing else to 



132 ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 

offer." A life devoted to the active works of charity 
can hardly fail to be fruitful in occasions for exercis- 
ing the virtues of mortification and love of the Cross; 
but, more than this, Mother Margaret retained so 
much of the antique spirit of Christianity as heartily 
to love the practice of exterior mortification, and to 
believe that without it the spirit of interior mortifi- 
cation is liable enough to expire. On this point 
both her instructions and her example were a con- 
tinual protest against that false and effeminate 
spirituality which professes to sanctify the spirit 
without mortifying the flesh. She preferred those 
practices of penance which humble both flesh and 
spirit, but discouraged such as afford any lurking- 
place for self-love or ostentation. 

There was one branch of mortification which she 
often pressed on her Religious, and wherein her ex- 
ample was even more efficacious than hei words. It 
was the courageous indifference to petty ailments, the 
cheerful endurance of weak health and bodily fatigue. 
She did not like them to show signs of pain by con- 
tractions of the face. With an earnestness not some- 
times without its touch of humour, she would seek to 
make them ashamed of the small self-indulgences to 
which feminine natures are so habitually inclined, and 
which she included under the comprehensive term of 
"faddiness." How truly heroic was her own lifelong 
struggle with disease and suffering, few, perhaps, even 
of her own children, were fully aware. In one of her 
letters she speaks of her repugnance to letting the 
younger Religious know anything of her infirmities. 
" All this," she says, "is good for the soul, and it is a 
strange pleasure to say to our Lord from time to time, 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT^ STONE. I 33 

1 You, and you only, know what this miserable car- 
case goes through/ " The remark was made by a 
priest during her last illness that Mother Margaret 
had taught her children how to work and how to 
pray, and that now she was teaching them how to 
die ; he might have added that another of her lessons 
had been to teach them how to suffer. One anecdote 
on this head may suffice, in which this victory over 
nature rises to the sublime. A Sister, feeling herself 
indisposed in the morning, went very early to our 
Mother's cell for the purpose of asking leave to absent 
herself from the morning office. Entering softly and 
unobserved, she found her standing erect, and engaged 
in washing the wounds which at that time covered 
her whole person, praying aloud, as she did so, for 
strength to get through the duties and fatigues of the 
day. Struck with awe at the touching spectacle, and 
ashamed of her own pusillanimity, she withdrew with- 
out making her presence known, and went to choir 
with the rest. 

One of the prominent features in her system of 
spiritual training was her constant inculcation of solid 
piety in preference to anything of private or senti- 
mental devotion. One scarce knows how to convey 
any notion of her teaching on this point, from the 
very fact of its energy and abundance. What she 
cared for was to get the root of faith firmly implanted 
in the soul, well knowing that once there, it would 
not fail to put forth the blossoms of devotion. The 
tendency to reverse the process, and to make piety 
consist in certain devout practices, — nay, even in the 
mere frequentation of the sacraments, was an abuse 
she found no words strong enough to condemn. It 



134 $ T DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 

was what she called " shim-sham piety." In the same 
way she set little store by feelings. " Take no notice 
of feelings," she writes, " they always deceive us, and 
lead us wrong ; keep to the one principle — to seek 
God and to serve Him, in darkness or in light, and to 
have but one intention — God's will, and God's work." 

She could not bear that a Religious should betray in- 
exactitude in any of the appointed ceremonies through 
a liking to indulge in private devotion. " It is not 
your own satisfaction you are to seek," she would say ; 
" if it is a distraction to you to hold a candle, think you 
are our Lord's candlestick for the time." Nor could 
she endure that any private devotion should be pre- 
ferred before the Liturgy and Office of the Church. 
She writes in great satisfaction at the conclusion of 
one Holy Week, " We have had the services correctly, 
and to the letter. All has been done as it should, not 
one thing for fancy." One might say that she thought 
better of a person's piety if they made the sign of the 
cross reverently and exactly, in the right time and 
manner, than if they performed a hundred devotions 
out of their own heads. In the schools she insisted 
that all the necessary points of Christian doctrine, 
and the practices of obligation, should be taught in 
preference to what was simply pious and attractive, 
and any departure from this rule strongly roused her 
indignation. 

Among the instruments of spiritualising a religious 
Community, to which she attached the highest im- 
portance, must certainly be numbered the possession 
of regular conventual buildings. 

In her opinion, something of the religious spirit 
evaporated in a house which did not reflect that spirit 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT \ STONE. 1 35 

in its exterior arrangements, and where many rules 
and ceremonies, in consequence, are apt to fall into 
abeyance. Hence her solicitude, at any sacrifice, to 
complete every office in the Mother House, that it 
might serve as a model for the whole Congregation ; 
and that Eeligious attached to younger foundations 
might return thither from time to time, to reinvigorate 
their religious spirit by a more exact practice of the 
Constitutions. 

Of these Constitutions something must now be said. 
At the time to which we have brought down our 
narrative they were rapidly approaching completion. 
Their compilation was exclusively the work of one 
Eeligious, whose delicacy of health gave Mother 
Margaret reason to fear at one time that God was 
asking of her the sacrifice of a life most dear and 
precious. Happily these fears proved groundless, and 
the necessity of withdrawing her from the work of 
teaching enabled her to devote herself with less inter- 
ruption to her laborious task. The contents of each 
chapter were first scrutinised by Mother Margaret, 
and then submitted to the approval of the Bishop of 
Birmingham before being incorporated in the work. 
They are exclusively drawn from the Constitutions 
of the great Order. With the exception of a few 
explanatory foot-notes of minor importance, the work 
contains not one word drawn from any private source, 
and the precise authority for each paragraph is cited 
in the margin. The volume already printed contains 
only the first part of these Constitutions ; the second 
part awaits the approval of the Most Rev. Master- 
General. This approval, as well as that of the Bishop 
of Birmingham, is appended to the printed volume. 



136 ST DOMINIC 'S CONVENT, S TONE. 

It had been determined that the removal of the 
Novitiate to Stone should not take place until after 
the annual Eetreat in July 1853, and that the same 
occasion should be selected for delivering the Con- 
stitutions to the assembled Eeligious before their 
separation. Great efforts were therefore made to get 
the book completed and out of the printer's hands by 
that time. 

The Eetreat opened on the 7th of July, and was 
given by the Eev. Father Augustine Maltus, O.S.D. 
The Constitutions did not arrive until after its close, 
and by a somewhat singular coincidence, on the 2 2d 
of July, the Feast of St Mary Magdalen, one of the 
chief patronesses of the Dominican Order. After 
Vespers, the Eeligious being all assembled in choir, 
his Lordship, the Bishop of Birmingham, delivered 
them a beautiful and touching address. The book of 
the Constitutions was then delivered to each one of 
the professed, and the following day the dispersion of 
the Sisters began. 

Mother Margaret ' and three professed Eeligious 
went first, to prepare for the reception of the Novices 
who followed with their Novice-mistress a few days 
later. Only a small portion of the convent and 
cloister were yet built : a large piece of ground was 
staked off where the church was intended to stand, 
and where the builders were already making their 
preparations. The Sunday Mass was still being said 
in St Anne's Chapel, and on the space now occupied 
by the choir, sanctuary, and priest's house, stood a 
small house and a row of cottages, of which the house 
and two of the cottages alone were as yet in the 
possession of the Community. As to the convent, it 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 137 

was, of course, very incomplete. The first step, so 
soon as the workmen were out of the house, was to 
convert the present Community-room into a tem- 
porary choir, whilst the only completed wing of the 
cloister was assigned to the use of the congregation, 
and sufficed at that time for their numbers. There 
were plenty of inconveniences and make-shifts, but 
these only afforded matter for amusement and merri- 
ment ; and whatever might have been the anxieties 
of the elders, to the light-hearted Novices it was a 
happy time. A letter accidently preserved from one 
of their number has recently brought to mind some 
of the incidents of those poetic days, when there was 
no gas and very little crockery, when the Novitiate 
was in the hands of the workmen, and the Novices 
attended their daily instructions under the trees in 
the garden ; when studies were pursued with toler- 
able success on an old box in one of the lavatories, 
and when every room in turn was tried as a refectory. 
And every room above ground having proved a 
failure, the Community had at last to retreat to cer- 
tain apartments in the basement story, playfully 
denominated the dungeons. 

On the 4th of August, the Feast of our Holy 
Father St Dominic, the first stone of the church was 
laid with due solemnity. The first Mass celebrated 
within the convent walls was the Pontifical High 
Mass, sung in this day by his Lordship, the Bishop 
of Birmingham. The Bev. F. Trenow was appointed 
chaplain to the convent and missionary priest ; and 
from this day the Chapel of St Anne's ceased to be 
used by the congregation, and was exclusively given 
up to the purposes of a poor school. The congrega- 



138 st dominic's convent, stone. 

tion was at this time but small ; and some persons 
who saw the dimensions of the proposed church, 
questioned the prudence of erecting a building of 
such proportions for so humble a congregation. It 
soon, however, began to multiply. " I was almost 
happy this evening/' writes Mother Margaret, " seeing 
so many poor Irishmen, with their heels out of their 
stockings, praying at the other end of the cloister." 
When Easter came the communicants numbered 
eighty, an increase which was thought extraordinary 
at the time ; but the progress of the congregation, 
however consoling, brought with it some incon- 
veniences. On week-days the Community had their 
choir to themselves, and a most devotional choir it 
was ; but when Sunday came, there was an end to 
cloistered retirement. The congregation gradually 
overflowed the narrow limits assigned to its use • and 
the women and children had to be accommodated 
within the stalls of the Religious, and in every avail- 
able quarter. 

On Eosary Sunday, 1853, the Confraternity of the 
Holy Eosary was formally erected at Stone. The 
modest list of names that day enrolled on the books 
has since swelled to a thousand, and the congregation 
at this moment is estimated at about fifteen hundred 
souls. 

One trouble at this time was the state of the com- 
munity at Longton. The house was sb dilapidated 
as to be hardly habitable ; pools of water stood on the 
floors, and, owing to the excessive damp of the chapel, 
it became at length impossible to reserve the Blessed 
Sacrament. As no other house could be procured in 
the place, and as the owners refused either to sell or 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 1 39 

to repair the Foley, it became necessary to withdraw 
the Religious, with the understanding that the legacy 
left by the Rev. Mr Hulme should be devoted as soon 
as possible to another foundation in the Potteries. On 
the 29th of January it was publicly given out at the 
Sunday Mass that the Community were about to leave, 
and that after the next day Mass would be said in that 
chapelnomore. The people were much distressed; some, 
even of the men, sobbed aloud ; " Now the Sisters are 
going away," they said, " there will be nobody fo blow us 
up." Most of the Religious were transferred to Stone, but 
two remained in the house till the first week in Feb- 
ruary to superintend the removal of furniture, and 
whilst there, were fast snowed into their dreary 
residence, so as to be unable to open their doors until a 
passage was cut through the snow with no little trouble. 

The nave of the church was now fast approaching 
completion, and the 3d of May 1854, the Feast of 
the Invention of the Holy Cross, was fixed on as the 
day of opening. The nave alone was built at this 
time, a kind of temporary sanctuary being arranged 
in front of the chancel arch, which was closed in with 
masonry. One of the aisles was boarded and curtained 
off from the rest of the church to serve provisionally 
as a choir for the Religious, and this choir they con- 
tinued to occupy for the space of nine years. 

The opening of the church took place with all the 
solemnity possible ; and the presence of the Fathers 
from Hinckley, who had been invited with eleven of 
their young postulants, all wearing the habit of the 
Order, gave the ceremony a truly Dominican aspect. 
The Pontifical High Mass was sung by the Bishop of 
Birmingham, the sermon being preached by the Very 



140 st dominic's convent, stone. 

Rev. Dr Newman, who came over from Dublin for the 
occasion. After the conclusion of the ceremony the 
Community assembled to receive the congratulations 
of his Lordship, who was pleased to express the sin- 
gular happiness he felt in witnessing the beginning of 
this new work. He recalled the old days at Coventry, 
and his words emboldened Mother Margaret to make 
a request. She was very desirous that the evening 
service should include a procession of Our Lady ; but 
she did not feel quite sure how far his Lordship would 
agree to the proposal. At last, however, she ventured 
to make it with a mixture of simplicity and timidity 
that was all her own. "My Lord," she said, "don't 
you think Our Lady would like to take a walk round 
the church 1 " Not only did she obtain the permission 
she desired, but the Bishop consoled her heart by 
following the holy image in full pontificals, and him- 
self singing the usual prayers. 

It may be proper in this place to give a short sum- 
mary of the after-progress of the convent, to w r hich ad- 
ditions continued to be made up to the winter of 1856, 
when further progress became impossible, until posses- 
sion could be obtained of the row of cottages which 
occupied the site of the present chapter-room and 
guest-house. As the owner refused to part with them, 
the only resource was prayer ; and innumerable were 
the Eosaries and Novenas offered for this intention. 
Whilst further progress was suspended at Stone, how- 
ever, fresh works were being elsewhere undertaken. 
The acceptance of Mr Hulme's legacy, now reduced in 
various ways to the sum of £1600, rendered the foun- 
dation of a convent somewhere in the Potteries a 
matter of obligation. Stoke-upon-Trent, a town about 



ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 141 

six miles from Stone, was selected for the purpose ; 
and in 1856 were begun the nave of the Church of 
Our Lady of the Angels, the priest's house and schools, 
and a very small portion of the adjoining convent. 
It was taken possession of by a small Community in 
September 1857 ; and many were the hardships which 
for years fell to their lot. They slept in a common 
dormitory ; and their Community-room served by day 
the purposes of a middle school. For a choir, indeed, 
they were well provided in a gallery constructed for 
the purpose ; but their temporary refectory and kitchen 
had to be approached through a wooden communi- 
cation which was not impervious to wet. It was not 
until the year 1866 that the addition of another wing 
to the convent supplied the Eeligious with necessary 
accommodation, enabling their numbers to be in- 
creased, and the convent to be erected into a Priory. 
In the meantime further progress was being made 
at Stone. In the August of the year 1857 the pro- 
perty before spoken of was purchased, though at an 
exorbitant price ; and the cottages were, for a time, 
adapted to the purposes partly of a middle pension 
school, and partly of an hospital. The latter charity 
may be said to have firstfairly begun in 1856, when the 
sum of £2000 was left to the Community, by a bene- 
factor who wished to be unknown, for the purpose of 
commencing the hospital. It was judged most prudent, 
and in accordance with the wishes of the donor, to 
appropriate this money to the support of hospital 
patients, rather than to the erection of a building or 
the purchase of land ; and in March 1856, a house 
was therefore hired in the town, whither were trans- 
ferred one or two infirm women, who had hitherto 



142 ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 

been maintained at Clifton, other patients being also 
received, whose numbers gradually increased. 

After possession had been obtained of the cottages 
in August 1857, the hired house was given up, and 
the hospital patients were moved into them ; but the 
accommodation thus provided being quite insufficient 
for their increasing requirements, it became essential 
to provide them another home. A tavern adjoining 
the convent garden seemed precisely what was wanted, 
but the obstacles that stood in the way of its purchase 
were even greater than in the former case. The Com- 
munity may be said to have compassed this property 
with their prayers and processions, as in old time the 
people of Israel w^ent about the walls of Jericho. 
Again and again were the fifteen mysteries of the 
Eosary recited processionally during fifteen succes- 
sive days ; and at last, in the summer of 1860, the 
unexpected death of the proprietor caused the property 
to be put up for auction, and, to the surprise of all 
concerned, the Community became the purchasers for 
the sum of £1500. Under ordinary circumstances it 
would have been a very perplexing question how this 
sum could have been procured. In this case, however, 
the precise sum of £1500 had recently come into the 
possession of the Community, and that in a totally 
unexpected manner. It was not bequeathed by any 
benefactor, but was property belonging to a member 
of the Community, though she had long given up 
any hopes of recovering it, and had been received as 
a novice with the understanding that such was the 
case. Just before her profession, however, which took 
place about this time, the affairs were brought to a 
most unlooked-for termination, and without any liti- 



st dominic's convent^ stone. 143 

gation or vexatious dispute, the Community found 
themselves possessed of the exact sum which enabled 
them to complete their long-desired purchase. 

The hospital patients were at once transferred into 
their new quarters, and, at the same time, the com- 
mencements were laid of a new charity which arose 
out of the following circumstances :— News was one 
day brought to Mother Margaret that a poor Irishman 
had died in Stone, leaving five little boys quite un- 
provided for, the eldest being twelve years old, the 
youngest an infant. The mother was sick in the Staf- 
ford Infirmary, and not expected to recover. All five 
children were about to be sent to the workhouse, but 
Mother Margaret could not bear the thought of this, 
and though a little perplexed at the fact of their being 
boys, she resolved to take them all. Her first idea 
was to hire a house in the town for them, but as no- 
body was willing to let one for the purpose, the con- 
vent premises were examined, and a very small 
building discovered on the recently-acquired property, 
the lower room of which had been turned into a stable. 
The horse was at once dispossessed, and located in 
the coal-cellar, the room cleared and cleaned, and the 
five little boys established there under the care of 
a woman from the hospital. Their mother being 
sufficiently recovered to leave the infirmary after- 
wards joined them, and this was the beginning of St 
Vincent's Orphanage, which now numbers forty in- 
mates, and occupies an entire row of cottages opposite 
to the convent. 

Whilst these undertakings were still in hand, Mother 
Margaret was at the same time engaged in establish- 
ing other more distant foundations, of which we shall 



144 ST DOMINIC S CONVENT, STONE. 

speak hereafter, and in dispensing charities on her 
own munificent scale. No wonder that strangers who 
beheld such things drew the conclusion that Mother 
Margaret must possess some boundless fund of wealth, 
and that they felt incredulous when assured that the 
only wealth of the Community was obtained by prayer. 
" There is nothing like prayer," was one of Mother 
Margaret's favourite sayings, and her life was its 
justification. More than one narrative of an answer 
to prayer has been already given ; we will here add 
another taken down at the time from her own lips. 
It must be premised that in the year 1865 the Com- 
munity had agreed to purchase a piece of ground on 
the other side of the road, which they then trusted 
would serve as a site for their Hospital and Boys' 
Orphanage. They were, however, utterly without 
the necessary means, and, as usual, Our Lady of the 
Eosary had been incessantly invoked, and the Fifteen 
Mysteries recited again and again. The result shall 
be told in Mother Margaret's own words : — 

"I had a letter from a lady who was an annual 
subscriber to our Hospital, saying that she was coming 
to the convent for an hour or two, and wished for a 
private interview. I had an early dinner, and when 
she came I felt very frightened to go to her. She 
began to talk, and almost the first thing she said was 
that she meant to withdraw the sum she had annually 
given to the Hospital. My heart began to sink ; but 
after a little more talk she said, 'I am thinking of 
giving you instead, £1000 at once.' I could not tell 
you what I felt. I began to cry. She said, ' Will 
you accept it I ' I said, ' I can only tell you that at 
this very time we have £1500 to pay for the ground 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION 1 45 

we have purchased, and, except to God, we did not 
know where to turn for the money.' But that was 
not all. As if to show clearly that it was the Fifteen 
Rosaries, she said that she wished us to undertake a 
certain charity for her, which no one was to know, 
and that she would give £500 additional for that 
purpose, which she would send on the Feast of St 
Theresa, making in all £1500. She said, ' How do 
you get the means for all you undertake?' I an- 
swered, ' You ask me how we get it, and don't you 
see how God has sent you here just at this moment 
to give us the very sum we want % ' She went away ; 
and Mother Sub-prioress came, anxious to know the 
result of her visit. I said, ' I should like Sister R and 
Sister A. to come too/ Then I told them all ; and 
we all sat and cried together. And, as if to finish it, 
instead of waiting till the Feast of St Theresa, she 
sent the money on the Eve of Rosary Sunday" 



CHAPTER IX. 

HER FAITH AND DEVOTION 

We have hitherto been engaged in tracing the exterior 
features of Mother Margaret's life, and the providen- 
tial guidance by which she, whom we have seen in 
1814 a friendless and destitute orphan, was led, step 
by step, to become the re-foundress in England of one 
of the ancient Institutes of the Church. And having 
reached this stage in her history, it may be well for a 
while to suspend our narrative, and introduce the 
reader to a closer acquaintance with Mother Margaret 

K 



146 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

herself, as she was known to her Keligious children 
and her more familiar friends. 

Even apart from the gifts of grace, she had many 
of those natural qualities which infallibly raise the 
souls that are endowed with them above their fellows. 
She possessed in a remarkable degree that magnificent 
physical organisation which so often accompanies 
great moral force ; and the life-long bodily infirmities 
from which she suffered, while they tamed and chas- 
tened her animal nature, never impaired its vigour. 

This strength of soul, which at once made itself felt, 
led some superficial observers to call Mother Margaret's 
a masculine character ; but this was a singularly 
erroneous judgment. Those who really knew her 
were well aware that her strength was far more from 
the heart than the head, — that even her intellectual 
gifts, her quick perception, and rapid judgment, were 
all essentially feminine ; the manly powers of deduc- 
tion and reasoning were developed in a far inferior 
degree. " She was," said one who best knew her, 
" the veriest woman I ever knew." 

But the natural force of character of which we have 
spoken was blended in her with another kind of 
power, the source of which was not in herself. She 
might have said, with the Psalmist, that G-od was 
" the strength of her life." As one friend well ex- 
pressed it, u She was full of God." It inspired one 
with a kindred devotion only to hear her pronounce, 
in her rich, full tones, the words, (l Almighty God." 
God was the very atmosphere of her life, an atmos- 
phere she made sensible to all who approached her. 
God's glory, His interests, His side in every question, 
was what she first considered, and His holy Name 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION, 147 

was ever on her lips. " How good God is ! " was her 
exclamation all day long. Everything that occurred 
was so simply and immediately referred to God, that 
her companions could not but live, as she did, in His 
continual presence. If it rained, she would say, 
" How good God is to send the rain ! " if it was fine, 
" How good God is to send the sunshine ! " If she had 
anything to give away, " How good God is to give us 
the pleasure of giving ! " Or if she had completed 
any great undertaking for the glory of God, her 
thanksgiving was more in detail. " How good God 
is," she would say ; " first He gives you the desire to 
do something for His glory, then He gives the 
means, and after all He rewards you for doing it, as 
if it had not been His own work from first to last ! " 
How greatly she longed to be with God, and how 
often such longings broke forth into words ! " Lent 
is past," she writes, " and so flies all time till we are 
in our true home in the bosom of God. Oh, happy, 
blessed thought ! To be with God for ever and 
ever ! To be with Him who is our life, our light, 
our love ! The cross soon passes, and the glorious 
resurrection comes." On her death-bed she could 
not refrain from sometimes expressing a regret that 
the last hour was so long delayed — " not," as she once 
said to her medical attendant, " on account of my 
sufferings, if they were ten times worse : it *s to see 
Almighty God, that is what I long for." If she heard 
of any act of dishonour to God, it touched her to the 
quick. After hearing the narrative of a shocking act 
of sacrilege and blasphemy against the Holy Trinity, 
committed some years ago in one of our military 
colleges, she caused the Athanasian Creed to be re- 



I48 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

cited in English every Sunday after Mass, as an act 
of reparation. 

This continual sense of God, in which faith and love 
had an equal share, explains the ardour she always 
manifested in all that regarded His worship, and the 
profuse munificence with which she adorned His sanc- 
tuary. She would have lavished the wealth of an 
empire, had she possessed it, in the decoration of His 
temple and tabernacle. " When our Mother had to 
provide anything for the church," said one of her 
earliest companions, " it was as if she was ordering 
for some prince of boundless riches, to ivliom all the 
bills would be sent in." Her last charge to the Eeligious 
who succeeded her in the government of the Congre- 
gation was, " Never forget the Church of God; let 
that always come first/' Hence it was that, as we 
have already said, she was so ready to answer appeals 
for help from poor missions, and that she gave away 
vestments, copes, albs, and altar linen so liberally, 
that the value of her gifts, if reckoned, would have 
amounted to many hundreds. Nothing moved her so 
much as the least semblance of meanness or stinginess 
in what appertained to God's service ; whatever was 
given to Him was to be the best that could be given. 
When the high altar of this church was being put up, 
though she was then far from well, she went to watch 
the workmen, and see that everything was done pro- 
perly. The brick foundation for the altar having 
been put up in a rough coarse way, she sent for the 
head workman, and desired that the masonry should 
be carefully finished, plastered, and whitewashed. The 
man looked a little surprised, and said he would see 
about it. " But it must be done, sir/' she said in a 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 149 

positive tone ; " you will make it all as good inside 
as out, and better, if anything. I'll have no rubbish 
inside God's altar." She looked disgusted and disap- 
pointed when she found that the marble portions, 
instead of being formed of solid blocks, were only stone 
covered with thin slabs of a more costly material, and 
went away saying, half aloud, " I suppose one can't 
help it, but I wish it had been solid ! " 

Nothing displeased her more that any remissness or 
negligence in necessary preparations relating to the 
Blessed Sacrament, nor was it any excuse in her eyes 
if the omission proceeded from being absorbed in 
prayer, whether at Meditation or Mass. That was 
not her idea of recollection, which she would say did 
not consist in being absorbed in self, but should 
always leave the soul vigilant for every duty. On one 
occasion, when she had observed some hurry and con- 
fusion among those engaged in preparing the altar, she 
administered a severe reproof. " Our Mother cried, 
and so did we," writes one of those who relate this 
incident. " I do not remember her words, but she 
reminded us of the deference that was shown in every 
movement before an earthly sovereign, and contrasted 
it with the way in which we had been moving before 
the throne of the King of kings." 

Another time, when there had been but a poor 
attendance at one of the Processions of the Blessed 
Sacrament, the indifference of the people struck to 
her very heart. " You may well feel the indifference of 
man to our good, our loving God," she writes; " there 
was not a man to carry the baldachin this morning : 
we had to get a boy from the school to carry the 
Cross. All running after the pounds, shillings, and 



150 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

pence. I never can feel the English have right faith, 
they are so cold and tepid. As our dear Lord's 
spouses, we ought to make up for this coldness to the 
best of our power. Never, never can we comprehend 
the generous love of our good God ; it is as incom- 
prehensible as our coldness and forgetfulness of this 
wonderful Mystery. Let us love, let us love with our 
heart, mind, and strength. " When writing on this 
subject she hardly found words in which to pour out 
her heart. " The world is cold," she writes, " because 
it knows not Jesus ; but for us, who know Jesus, who 
are loved by Jesus, who are fed and clothed by Jesus, 
and to whom Jesus communicates Himself nearly 
daily in the Sacrament of His love, what can we do, 
what ought we not to do, for this dear, this loving, 
this Divine Jesus ! . . . May you ever increase in 
devotion, love, and faith to this Gift of gifts — the 
adorable Sacrament of the Altar, our hidden God, our 
Spouse, our Life, our All. . . . Drink deep during 
this holy Octave of this furnace of Divine love; and ask 
of your hidden, solitary God, the spirit of recollection. 
. . . How cold are Catholics' hearts become ! Did 
we think and feel as we ought towards this Divine 
Mystery, some would surely die of love. It humbles 
us to think we can do so little, and love so little a God 
whose very essence is love ! ?; 

The following letter was written to one of her con- 
vents on the Feast of Corpus Christi : — 

" God Alone. 
"J.M.*D.C. 

" June 13, 1851. 

"My very bear Sisters and Children in 
Jesus, — I cannot let this Feast of Love pass without 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 15 I 

wishing you all to reap the fruit of this holy Octave, 
in which we commemorate the boundless love, the 
wonderful humility of our God with us. I wish I 
could obtain for all of you a sense of what you are in 
possession of, in dwelling with Jesus, the Beloved of 
the Father, the Joy, the Happiness, the Beauty of 
Heaven ; for we have, in our Lord and God, the 
most beautiful of the sons of men residing with us in 
our poor, mean tabernacle. To you, my dear Sisters, 
who have the honour, the happiness to be His chosen 
spouses, how will you spend this Octave % Will you 
spend it in coldness and indifference % Will you not 
leave the creature to find your Creator, and make 
some reparation for the coldness and indifference of 
ungrateful man, who is wholly unworthy of the gift 
he possesses % Let it be your chief pleasure and re- 
creation, during this holy time, to spend it with Jesus 
your Spouse, the only solitary in the House. And to 
you who are aspiring to become the spouses of the 
immaculate Lamb of God, how diligent ought you to 
be in your continual visits to Him, to beg Him for 
every grace you need, to prepare you for so high, so 
holy a dignity. Eemember our enemy is watching to 
rob us of this most precious favour \ he makes the way 
dark, dreary, and miserable ; but you will be victori- 
ous if you are faithful in giving all your spare moments 
to Him who lies hidden, solitary, and silent for the 
love of you. How often does His divine Eye and 
Heart turn towards the choir door, to see which of 
His chosen ones will pass one hour with Him ! Be- 
lieve me, my dear Sisters, if you are faithful in going 
before Our Lord with all your doubts, difficulties, and 
troubles, they will soon vanish, and you will advance 



IS 2 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

rapidly in the way of perfection. Pray often and 
fervently during this Octave, that all may know, and 
love, our good, our merciful, our loving God ; that His 
temples may be rebuilt, that His priests may be holy, 
that He will vouchsafe to convert our unhappy 
country to the true faith ; but, above all, ask that 
those who are chosen from the rest of the world, 
particularly you who belong to the same, may be 
faithful to the end in loving, serving, and adoring 
Him, in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar. I 
should weary you all before I should be weary of 
speaking of this Mystery of Love. God give you 
many blessings during this holy Octave. — Your un- 
worthy Mother in Jesus, " Margaret, 

" Of the Mother of God:' 

The anguish which she felt in beholding the poverty 
and squalor that is often suffered to surround the 
tabernacle of our God Incarnate, can hardly be ex- 
pressed in words. What struck her most on her re- 
turn to England was the poverty of the altars, 
particularly in private chapels. Visiting at a great 
house, she was questioned by the ladies of the 
family as to what she thought of England after her 
long absence in a foreign country. -"Well, ladies," 
she replied, " if I must say the truth, what has struck 
me most in England is to see you using mahogany for 
your closets, whilst you keep our Lord in deal ! " 

Until the foundation of Stone, she trusted no one 
but herself to decorate the altar on the greater fes- 
tivals, and after the increase of occupations obliged her 
to allow that duty to devolve on others, she always 
superintended the office of Sacristan, and gave special 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 1 53 

directions for the celebration of each festival. If the 
material decoration of the Throne of God had this 
importance in her eyes, yet more was she solicitous 
regarding everything that concerned the worship which 
was offered before it. Her religious children were 
accustomed to say that of all the saints there was none 
she resembled so much as King David. His royal 
munificence, his forgetfulness of human respect when 
he danced before the ark, his delight in singing with 
voice and heart the praises of God, and the exuberance 
of his holy joy in rendering Him the best of all things — 
something of all this was to be seen in her. She often 
expressed her devotion by saying she would like to 
dance before the tabernacle, and used to say that 
Father Faber had spoken the right thing when he said 
that on Corpus Christi one could not stand still. There 
was a thrilling exultation in her manner of chanting 
the Divine Office. On one adoration day in particular, 
when, the Community being small, there were few 
Religious in the choir who could sing, a priest who 
was present remarked that he should never forget the 
tone of Mother Margaret's voice, it was so clear and 
joyous; "and yet," he added, "you could tell from the 
very sound that there was not a thought of self in it ; 
it was truly a creature singing the praises of her 
Creator." She burst into tears quite overpowered at 
first hearing the Tantum Ergo sung by all the people 
in the churches of Rome, and she never visited her 
convent at Stoke, without expressing her delight at 
the hearty way in which the congregation there joined 
in the public singing. One Sunday, when there had 
been Exposition of the Most Holy Sacrament, she 
came from the choir after service was over, quite over- 



154 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

powered. " my dear child ! " she said to the 
Superioress, in her own simple phraseology, "it 
more than repays me for all that has been done in this 
place to hear these people singing the praises of God ; 
and to see those big men go down on their two knees I " 

In speaking of a subject which is literally inex- 
haustible, it is hard not to be diffuse • but one feature 
in Mother Margaret's holy zeal for God's worship 
must not be omitted. It was her liturgical spirit. 
This was one of the points in which she reflected 
rather the antique piety of past ages, than the tastes 
and habits of the present day. We have heard some 
Catholics condemn, as preposterous, the notion that 
the Offices of the Church were ever intended for popu- 
lar use. Such was not Mother Margaret's spirit. To 
her there were no words like the words of the Church, 
no music and no language like that which the Church 
has sanctified. She tolerated the use of English hymns 
and devotions for the people, but they were opposed 
to her taste, and she strenuously maintained the 
principle of training Catholics to take part in the 
Church Office in preference to every other devotion. 

For herself, her delight in the ritual of the Church 
was often too deep for words. " This Holy Week," 
she writes, " we have had all the proper things for 
the first time, I mean the font and the paschal candle- 
stick. I suppose, as we grow old, we get into second 
childhood, for I could not sing the Gloria for tears, I 
hope, of gratitude to God for all His mercies to us, 
and above all, for being a true child of the Church. 
The blessing of the candle and the font are quite soul- 
inspiring. You would wonder who could live out of 
the Church, or not love its ceremonies." 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 1 55 

Her letters addressed to the Eeligious of her vari- 
ous houses on the various festivals, if collected, would 
fill several volumes. We will quote a few passages, 
for the purpose of exhibiting her deep sympathy with 
the devotion of the season, and the fervid language 
with which she sought to kindle a like devotion in 
her children. "Another Advent! " she writes. "How 
good God is, year after year, to remind us of what we 
are to do to prepare for Him. If we read the epistle 
of to-day, it tells us we are to put on the Lord Jesus 
Christ. What a work for Advent! to become another 
living model of our Spouse Jesus ! Here you see, my 
beloved children, St Paul has cut out our work for 
Advent, "Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ." Do it, 
dear spouses of Jesus, do it with all your heart, soul, 
mind, and strength. Put on in deed and in truth the 
spirit and works of your Divine Spouse ; He sees, and 
knows, and notes down every thought, word, and act 
of His beloved spouses." At Christmas, she writes ; 
"Everything in the Church at this Holy Season 
preaches to us the Nativity of our dear Lord, the 
Versicles, the Hymns, the Antiphons, all excite us to 
prepare the w^ay of the Lord. . . . Surely we ought 
to be the most perfect, the most loving of all His 
creatures ! For us He is born; for us He lies helpless 
in the manger \ for us He weeps, and our dear Mother 
Mary weeps with Him too, in union with her Son, for 
the sins of the people. Dry His tears, my dear Sis- 
ters, by the fervour of your love, by the sincerity of 
all your devotions, and above all, by the practice of 
the three vows of religion which you have pledged to 
Him. . . . Let us take our heart in our hands to the 
crib of our infant Jesus, and show Him all its wounds 



156 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

— all that is an obstacle to the reign of His pure love 
in our souls. . . . Let us listen to the sweet voice of 
inspiration that sounds from the stable, the crib, the 
manger, the straw, the beasts, for everything there 
preaches to us." 

The Feast of the Circumcision always drew from 
her the most impassioned words regarding the Most 
Precious Blood, to which, like a true daughter of St 
Catherine, she bore an extraordinary devotion. In 
Lent and Passion-tide she ceased not to direct the 
thoughts of those around her to the practice of pen- 
ance, and the cultivation of a tender devotion to the 
Passion of Jesus. "Never do I go before God," she 
writes, at the beginning of Holy Week, "without 
begging Him that His generous outpourings of His 
Most Precious Blood may be for the sanctification of 
you all. For what will all these great mysteries avail 
us if we do not apply them to ourselves, and so im- 
bibe the graces and blessings that flow from the 
sacred wounds of our bleeding Bridegroom % But if 
Jesus is a Spouse of blood to us and for us, let us not 
cause that blood to flow again by opening the wound 
of His sacred side (the wound of love by excellence) 
by our imperfect thoughts, words, or looks. Did we, 
dear Sisters, see Jesus hanging on the cross with all 
His wounds open, and the cold bleak wind blowing 
into them, our first thought would be what we could 
do to comfort Him. Let the same feeling animate us 
now; let us endeavour to console and bind up the 
w T ounds of our Lord and God. ... I hope you will 
all do your best to honour the Passion of Christ by 
some acts of penance. The sins of the world would 
call for this even if the love of our crucified Lord did 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION, 157 

not excite us to it. "Would to God we could crush 
our proud sensual nature, and live and die on the 
cross ! " And then when the Easter sun has risen, 
she writes as though her soul were overflowing with 
the Paschal joys : " This is the day that the Lord 
hath made ! let us rejoice and be glad ! The Church, 
like a tender mother, tells us when to mourn and when 
to rejoice; and now it is her will that we should be 
joyous with a holy joy — a joy such as is felt in heaven, 
where the angels see their God and our God face to 
face. May all your hearts beat with this true joy, 
my very dear children; for there is no joy in the 
world, in its ways or manners." 

What can we say on the subject of her devotion to 
the Church 1 She verily saw in it the spotless Spouse 
of Christ : she lived in its round of fasts and festivals, 
she gloried in its triumphs, she made its sufferings 
her own. " What times these are we live in ! " she 
writes. " It makes me heart-sick to hear the things 
that are said of God and His Church. It makes me 
wish more than ever to say the Divine Office, to bind 
us more closely to God and His Church. It seems as 
if we ought always to be in prayer." 

Her devotion to the Church and its ministers 
naturally took its highest expression in her devotion 
to the person of the Sovereign Pontiff. The true 
daughter of St Catherine, she, in this as in so many 
other respects, reflected and reproduced her spirit. 
She saw in the Holy Father only " the Christ on 
earth." How numberless were the prayers, Xovenas, 
processions, and days of adoration, offered in her Com- 
munities for the needs of the Church ! 

In the months of September and October, in the 



158 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

year 1866, when the affairs of Rome appeared hasten- 
ing to their crisis, she ceased not to exhort all her 
children, as the daughters of St Catherine, to " offer 
everything for the Pope and the Church." She bade 
them, as they went about the house, use as their con- 
stant ejaculations the words, " Lord, help the 
Pope, protect the Church ! " and teach the same to 
the children. 

" Some of you," she said, " are always praying and 
thinking of yourselves : that is all self-love. Be more 
generous and pray for what is of more consequence. 
As children of St Catherine, whose precious relics we 
have with us, it is our special duty to pray for the 
Church." 

The emotions of delight and veneration with which 
the personal presence of the Sovereign Pontiff filled 
her soul will best be described in speaking of her visit 
to Eome ; but from that time she generally mingled 
some words of familiar affection with her expressions 
of sympathy and respect. At such times she would 
say, " We are true Papists ; there is no doubt of that ; 
and I thank God for it ! " There was nothing she had 
a greater horror of than any sort of timidity or human 
respect on the part of Catholics when called on to 
profess their faith. The spirit of polite compromise 
with heresy was in her eyes treason, and she treated 
it as such. " In our days," she once said to her Ee- 
ligious, " the worst enemies of the Church are not 
heretics and persecutors, but half and half Catholics, 
' rotten Catholics,' as Dr Milner used to call them, who 
are willing to come to a compromise with heresy and 
want to teach the Church — they think themselves so 
wise ; and my prayer for them is that God would 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 1 59 

make them fools. Let all who have to do with the 
children instil into them a great love to Holy Church. 
Do not use half measures yourselves ; be bold and 
open in your profession of loyalty to the Church ; let 
us have no compromises. When seculars question 
you, let them plainly understand that out of God's 
Church there is no salvation \ that if they are not 
Catholics they will be lost, unless they are in invin- 
cible ignorance. And if they ask you who founded 
the Protestant religion, tell them ' the devil ;' I never 
give any other answer, and I hope, please God, I 
never shall/' Her loyalty to her Order was part and 
parcel of her loyalty to the Church — it had the same 
tone, the same deep and heartfelt intensity about it. 
" Thank God on your knees every day of your life," 
she once exclaimed, " that you are members of an 
ancient Order — an Order of Saints, an Order that has 
never been tainted with heresy ! " Her letters are full 
of such passages. " Pray," she writes, " that we may 
have the true spirit of our Holy Father; without that, 
it were better we ceased to exist." . . . "Let us all 
aim to be Catherines" Indeed, we might sum up her 
whole teaching by saying, that the spirit she sought 
to form in her Community was the spirit of St 
Catherine of Sienna. 

One other of Mother Margaret's devotions remains 
to be spoken of, the one which is perhaps most com- 
monly supposed to have been predominant in her soul, 
the devotion to the Blessed Virgin. And truly it 
would be difficult to overstate the warmth and breadth 
of that devotion to the Mother of God, which held 
the closest place in her heart, next to her love of God 
Himself. She never could speak without emotion of 



l60 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION, 

the favours, the protection, the tender and maternal care 
which she and her Community had received from this 
best of mothers. If she tried to do so, her words 
poured out mingled with her tears. "Who has 
obtained all these things for us % " she writes ; 
" Mary, our beloved, our thrice loved Mother. Praise 
her, bless her, love her, confide in her, and you will 
be light with the light of God, and full of joy. . . . 
You have all a double reason to honour and bless our 
Immaculate Mother, for she is really the cause and 
instrument of all we have in every way \ she is truly 
the ' Cause of our joy.' . . . Never, never could I put 
into words all her bounty and goodness to us. ... I 
know not what to say when I go to pray, but this one 
word, how good, how wonderful is God ! May He be 
blessed for ever, and our Immaculate Mother, who has 
done these great things for us." She constantly im- 
pressed on her children that in the foundation and 
growth of the Congregation, every grace, from first to 
last, had been received through the intercession of 
Mary. In 1862, when the cloisters of St Dominic's 
Convent were finally completed, she had a solemn 
procession of Our Lady round them, as an act of 
thanksgiving to her for all she had done. Her words 
on this occasion have been preserved, and were as 
follows : — 

" It is, of course, fit that we should open the new 
cloister by a procession in honour of Our Lady, as it 
is her gift. I cannot attempt to put into words what 
I feel about the Blessed Virgin on this Feast of her 
Immaculate Conception : it would be impossible. It 
is hardly credible to look back and see what has been 
done since this day seventeen years by one poor 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. l6l 

woman, without a name, without a family, without a 
sixpence, without a penny, with no help, no friend, 
except God and His Blessed Mother. As to this 
Convent, she has laid it stone upon stone. Therefore, 
not for one or for two, but for all of you, to-morrow 
ought to be one continued act of thanksgiving for 
the favours obtained through our dear Blessed Lady. 
And what Our Lady desires of you is, that you should 
all be in your measure, Marys!' 

It was her invariable custom to keep all the Feasts of 
Our Lady by what she called " giving her a present." 
Sometimes it was a new vestment, or other church 
ornament, sometimes an orphan received gratis. In 
speaking of Our Lady, all the childlike simplicity of 
her nature came out without restraint. She would 
call her the most endearing names, and say how much 
she would like to dance before her. " I hope I shall 
be saved," she said one day ; " I think the Blessed 
Virgin will not let me be lost, it would be -very 
unkind of her if she did. I made a bargain with her 
that I would work for her, and she was to take care 
of my soul ; so I go on and do what I have to do, 
and leave my soul to her." 

It is not to be told what pain she endured when 
any of the ordinary phraseology of Protestant disre- 
spect to the Mother of God reached her ears. Every 
one will remember the delirium of Protestant bigotry 
which broke out all over England on the appointment 
of the Catholic hierarchy. No Catholic could at that 
time drive through London without having his eyes 
and ears shocked by some blasphemous inscription 
or disgraceful cry. Cars containing effigies of the 
Pope, the Cardinal, and the great enemy of souls were 

L 



1 62 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 

paraded through the metropolis as in the days of 
Shaftesbury, and the effigies were afterwards committed 
all together to the flames. In the city of Exeter, the 
emblem of our Eedemption itself was added to the 
bonfire which was lighted before the gates of the 
Bishop's palace. But it was reserved for the Protestants 
of Bristol to conceive the idea of a yet more horrible 
exhibition. The proposal was made to dress up an 
effigy of the Blessed Virgin and flog it through the 
streets of the city. It is indeed difficult to imagine 
how a thought so utterly revolting could have 
suggested itself to any, even nominally, Christian 
mind, were it not evident that these outbreaks of 
popular fury often bear the signs of an infernal in- 
spiration. But when the tidings of what was con- 
templated reached Mother Margaret, it nearly killed 
her. She wrung her hands as in agony, and turning 
her face to the wall, exclaimed repeatedly, " I shall 
die, I shall die ; my Mother, I shall die ! " In a 
letter written at the time she expresses her anguish, 
and adds, " I must go out and rescue her, I fear I 
shall not be able to restrain myself." And she urged 
some of the Catholic gentlemen to take the law into 
their own hands, and "to go out and fight for the 
Blessed Virgin,'' wondering how any could be so 
tame-spirited as to keep at home. Happily, however, 
the outrage was never perpetrated, and England 
was at least spared so black a disgrace. And indeed 
the malicious designs of the rioters were in other 
respects also frustrated in a remarkable way. A mob 
gathered near the convent one day, and were venting 
their ill-will in cries and abuse, when a gentleman 
stepped out of the crowd and proposed to them to 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 1 63 

pull it down, offering £30 to any one who would 
begin the work. But instead of increasing their 
excitement, his words had the effect of allaying it, 
and not so much as a stone was thrown at the 
windows. 

Her devotion, par excellence, was the Eosary. She 
loved it as a true Dominican should, considering it 
the most powerful of all prayers with God, and the 
most acceptable of all offerings to His Holy Mother. 
What has not the Eosary obtained for her and her 
children 1 It has been that prevailing prayer to which 
recourse has been had in all necessities and in all trials, 
and never without result. The Fifteen Mysteries, 
recited daily and processionally for fifteen successive 
days, this has been the instrument for effecting all 
which the world has been pleased to call wonders. 
People who knew the humble origin of the Commu- 
nity, and the comparatively short space of time which 
it has taken to expand to its present dimensions, 
would sometimes come to Stone, and express their 
surprise at all that Mother Margaret had done, and 
ask how she had contrived to do it ; and she might 
have replied by pointing to her Eosary. One such 
visitor, a bishop, after going over the church and con- 
vent, said to her, " Mother Margaret, what a wonder- 
ful woman you are ; you must have a mine of gold 
down there," pointing to the ground. "Oh no, my 
Lord ! nothing down there," she replied, " but I have 
plenty up there!" pointing towards heaven. "Our 
Blessed Lady is my gold mine; it all comes from her." 

During her visit to Belgium in 1856, a magnificent 
carved oak statue of Our Lady of Victories, exhibited 
in the town hall of Bruges, attracted her admiration, 



164 HER FAITH AND DEVOTION, 

and, to use her own expression, she " invited her to 
Stone," though well aware that the cost of such a 
work of art was far beyond her means. Some years 
afterwards, however, this statue was brought to Eng- 
land, and, through the munificence of a generous bene- 
factor, was presented to the Community. Mother 
Margaret's delight was absolutely child-like \ Our 
Lady had accepted her invitation ; and when the 
difficulty of locating so large a piece of carving in the 
church of Stone caused some to suggest its removal to 
Stoke, she answered decidedly, " No, on no account ; 
it was to Stone I invited her, and to Stone she has 
come." As it was found impossible to find a place for 
the image in the church, she began to pray, " that she 
might know where Our Lady would like to go." She 
wished much to build a chapel for the purpose, and 
went about repeating to herself, " Wisdom hath built 
herself a house, she hath hewn out seven pillars." At 
last St Anne's Chapel, in the garden, was assigned as 
the temporary resting-place of Our Lady of Victories, 
until such time as the contemplated sanctuary could 
be reared. The designs for this sanctuary, as they 
existed in her imagination, were superb indeed. All 
was to be marble : there was to be a " Gothic dome " 
rising over the canopy ; the sanctuary was to be on 
the top of a mountain overlooking the whole of Staf- 
fordshire, and fifteen little chapels of the Rosary 
Mysteries were to be on the sides of the mountain. 
All England was to come there in pilgrimage ; it 
would be a great act of reparation for all the insults 
offered to the Mother of God. Such were the bright 
day-dreams she loved to paint in hours of recreation, 
nor was she easily damped by the question of possi- 



HER FAITH AND DEVOTION. 1 65 

bilities. "We have not got a mountain," observed 
one of her hearers, but she instantly silenced that 
difficulty, and replied, as though surprised at the ob- 
jector's want of conception, "Well, child, I suppose we 
can make one I " 

The thought of this cherished plan never left her 
mind, and in a letter written on the Feast of the As- 
sumption, 1864, she says, "I hope before many years 
are over we shall see the pilgrimage to Our Lady of 
Stone opened on this glorious festival. I can think 
of little else but this building, and seeing numbers 
come to honour Our Divine Mother. " The nearest 
approach to a fulfilment of this day-dream was on an 
occasion linked with the sad memory of her own mor- 
tal illness. During the whole summer of 1867 her 
evidently declining health had caused the Religious 
in all her convents to offer unceasing prayers for her 
recovery, and their solicitude was shared by the chil- 
dren under their care. On the 16th of October 1867, 
the children belonging to the middle school of Stoke 
proposed making a pilgrimage on foot to Our Lady of 
Victories for the recovery of Mother Margaret's health. 
The proceedings of the day are best described in 
Mother Margaret's own words : " To-day," she writes, 
" a real pilgrimage began to our Lady of Victories. 
The children of the pension school at Stoke, some of 
our own Religious, and some others, thirty in all, 
walked all the way from Stoke, saying the Rosary 
aloud, and singing the hymns of Our Lady. Our 
orphan boys went about three miles to meet them, 
and some of the Religious from here. No one made 
any remark, but carriages and horsemen stopped to 
look at them. They said the whole Rosary four 



1 66 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

times over, and no one spoke a word. Each child 
brought a good-sized candle in her hand all the way 
to offer to Our Lady. I am sure our dear Blessed 
Mother must be pleased to have nine miles of prayer. 
It was all offered that I might get well. I ought to 
be grateful for this. So you see our pilgrimages have 
begun : may our dear Lord bless them for the sancti- 
fication of the people ! " 

This, however, was the first and last of the Stone 
pilgrimages, such demonstrations, in the existing state 
of public feeling, being judged by Superiors indiscreet. 



CHAPTEE X. 

COMMUNITY LIFE. 

From the subject of Mother Margaret's faith and 
devotion, we pass to speak of her daily life with- 
in her own Community. One of its main features 
will have become sufficiently apparent by what has 
been already said. It was from first to last a life of 
incessant work. Making every allowance for her 
strength of organisation and ardour of temperament, 
it must still be confessed that the burdens she imposed 
on her suffering body were such as nature alone could 
never have found the courage to bear. Earely, if 
ever, did she permit herself a single dispensation, and, 
unless laid low by such an attack of positive sickness as 
could not be disguised, she continued to assist at 
every Community exercise, and to discharge even the 
least ceremony of the choir with an exactitude that 
often cost her dear. 



COMMUNITY LIFE. 1 6 7 

She was always the first to rise in the morning, and 
the first to appear in choir. For some years she 
always called the rest of the Community, and when 
at last she consented to resign this office, she continued 
to show the same alacrity in hastening to the presence 
of our Lord. After the Divine Office was substituted 
for the Office of Our Lady, Mother Margaret continued 
daily to recite Our Lady's Office as well, choosing this 
morning hour for the purpose, and rising earlier in 
order to secure herself the necessary time. 

Her example in choir was one of the most precious 
lessons she has left to her children. The Divine 
Office was, as she often said, her refreshment and her 
delight, and no one could behold her discharging the 
choral duties without feeling that it was so. How- 
ever weary or suffering she might be, she seldom 
absented herself from choir. Her voice, so rich and 
full of volume, was always heard in the psalmody, 
clear and distinct above every other ; and her manner 
of reading the morning and evening meditations was 
such as positively to rivet the ear. She read slowly and 
expressively, with a majestic simplicity which gave 
its full force to every word, while it was as far as pos- 
sible removed from what is commonly called fine read- 
ing. She contrived to infuse a new meaning into the 
most ordinary and familiar words, and in fact it was in 
her method of rendering these that her extraordinary 
power as a reader chiefly appeared. This gift of hers 
was the more remarkable, as it did not show itself if 
she undertook to read any ordinary book aloud ; and 
of this she was herself perfectly aware, often saying 
that "she only knew how to read her prayers." 

She was devoured by a thirst to see all her children 



1 68 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

saints, and whether she addressed them by letter or 
by word of mouth, this was the ever-recurring theme 
on which she spoke. " The only way for us to go to 
heaven," she would say, "is to be saints, and very 
great saints." When St Dominic's Convent was being 
completed, she made some allusion to the subject in 
one of her chapter addresses, and concluded by say- 
ing, " And now, if this house is not going to be a 
nursery of saints, I would like nothing better than to 
light a match and burn it to the ground. ... If I had 
the choice given me, I would rather bury you all to- 
morrow than know you would live on without any 
attempt to become Saints." 

It need hardly be said that her ardour often found 
expression in strong and burning words, and in one 
of her letters she asks the pardon of her children for 
any harshness of expression which might at times 
have escaped her through excess of zeal. " Eagerness 
for your perfection," she says, " and a great desire to 
see you perfect imitators of our sainted parents, may 
often cause me to speak strong things that may give 
pain ; but with truth I can say, it comes from a heart 
that loves you all in God and for God, and that would 
go to any risk to save and perfect your precious 
souls." 

There were many to whom this language was 
equally familiar in their private intercourse with her. 
One of her children relates the following touching 
incident : " Having once incurred our Mother's dis- 
pleasure," she says, " she had for some time used to- 
wards me a severity of manner, which was beginning 
to make me too much in fear of her. Perceiving this, 
she came to our cell, and going down on her knees, 



COMMUNITY LIFE, 1 6 9 

she begged my pardon, saying, * My child, forgive me, 
I have been too severe to you. I thought it would 
be the best way to guide you, but I see I was wrong;' 
nor would she rise from her knees till I lifted her up. 
Then she pressed me to her heart, and said again, 
' Forgive me, I was too harsh, but it was all in love/ 
And as if by way of making it up, for some time after 
that she used to put small boxes of sugar-plums into 
our cell, and would say to me, ' Here are some sweets 
to make up for the bitters.' I cannot express the 
effect caused on my soul by this act of humility, to 
see our dearest Mother at my feet ; it did more for 
me than all the penances I ever had. It shed a new 
light upon my soul, and obtained for me a special 
grace. And her humility will seem the greater when 
I add, that I was then only a child of nineteen." 

One who knew Mother Margaret well was accus- 
tomed to say of her that no one possessed equal power 
of consolation or desolation. Some who approached 
her were no doubt more conscious of her desolating 
than of her consoling power, for not the least remark- 
able feature in her character was what we must call 
its many-sidedness ; its aspect varied according to the 
various dispositions of those with whom she was 
brought in contact, or the degree of her own familiar- 
ity with them. With all she was not equally at home, 
and where this was the case, imperfect sympathy would 
produce a kind of shyness on her part, which mani- 
fested itself in restraint of manner. Yet on the whole, 
her power of attraction largely preponderated, and 
made itself felt on characters the most opposite, 
whether by nature or education ; converts or native 
Catholics, young or old, simple and learned, alike 



I 7 O COMMUNITY LIFE. 

were conscious of the charm ; so that it was often said, 
she was like a " master-key, which opened all hearts 
alike." 

That such a soul as we have attempted to describe, 
so mighty in its will, so fervid in its passions, should 
have possessed the charm of a childlike simplicity — 
that it could be winning in its tenderness and its 
genial sympathy, and that what was so great could 
make itself so little — here was the wonder and the 
grace of Mother Margaret's character. To know her 
aright, it would not be enough to have listened to her 
in her graver intercourse with seculars, or even with 
her own Eeligious, to have read her letters, or have 
studied her works of active benevolence : you must 
also have known her in those hours of familiar relaxa- 
tion, when, sitting in the midst of her children, she 
threw off the pressing anxieties of her many cares, and 
was exclusively the Mother. Her notion of recreation 
was, that it should be real recreation. Gossip of all 
kinds she rigidly excluded, whether it were worldly 
or Community gossip ; the families of the Eeligious 
were never spoken of ; she disliked the affairs of the 
schools, the hospital, or the poor, to be made a subject 
of conversation ; and, in particular, she would never 
permit the faults and tiresome ways of children or 
patients to be idly tattled over. She desired that all 
things should be to edification ; but, provided that the 
bounds of religious modesty were never overpassed, 
she had no objection to innocent merriment. She 
knew that minds engaged all day in the labour of 
teaching, or in other active cares, require at times to 
be wisely unbent, and she often urged on her children 
the duty of exerting themselves to make the hour of 



COMMUNITY LIFE. T 7 I 

recreation agreeable and profitable to their Sisters. 
She liked some instructive book to be read aloud 
during a portion of the time, and never was there a 
better listener than herself. She listened with her 
whole person. If the book were of graver interest, 
the deeper chords of her spiritual nature were ever 
responsive to the slightest breath, and it needed but 
a word, or the name of Almighty God, to elicit that 
sigh and that upward glance, which showed how true 
her soul was to its centre. The " Life of Pere La- 
cordaire " was almost the last book read in this way 
during the recreation-hours, and every one will re- 
member how she hung upon its pages, how word by 
word seemed to pierce her very soul, and how her 
tears flowed over that touching narrative of his last 
hours — too soon, alas ! to be brought back to the 
minds of her children as they watched her own. 

She was quite as good a listener to a story as to a 
book, and at recreation-hours often called on one or 
other to exert their skill for the general amusement. 
If the story were pathetic, it readily drew her tears, 
while, if it touched on the horrible, her extreme 
tenderness could not endure to listen, and she would 
put her hands to her ears, saying, " If it is going to 
be dreadful, don't tell me; I shall not sleep all 
night." Her simplicity displayed itself on these 
occasions in a thousand ways. One of her Religious, 
for the sake of giving her a few moments of distrac- 
tion from weightier thoughts, once produced a Jules 
Gerard, the Lion-Killer," and entreated her to listen 
to the killing of his first lion. She listened with more 
than her usual interest, and at the critical moment of 
the sportsman's danger, forgetting that he had lived 



I 7 2 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

to tell the tale, repeated, in a tone of breathless 
anxiety, " The lion won't eat him, will he % " When 
at last the lion was killed, every one laughed at her 
sigh of relief, and exclamation of " God be praised ! n 

She was too true a Catholic to be insensible to the 
instinct of loyalty, and among her other character- 
istics must be noted the peculiar affection and respect 
which she always bore to the person of the Sovereign. 
She possessed that genuine sense of loyalty which is, 
or ought to be, native in a Catholic heart, and often 
expressed her dislike of the tone which a certain section 
of the Catholic press of these countries allows itself on 
this subject. A flippant remark about royalty having 
once been made in her presence, she severely rebuked 
the speaker, who was a convert, saying, " You con- 
verts will never learn reverence ; you do not know 
what a real Catholic feels for those in authority.' ' 

She could never bear certain forms of expression to 
be used, which, common as they are on English lips, 
grate discordantly on Catholic ears, and convey the 
idea of murmuring against Providence. If any one 
complained of the weather as too hot or too cold, too 
wet or too dry, it displeased her, and she always took 
care to remind them that " it was God Almighty's 
weather, though not perhaps His very best." Lamen- 
tations over temporal losses were equally repugnant 
to her deeply Christian sense. Some mischievous 
boys once took it into their heads to set fire to the 
convent hay-rick ; it was somewhat mortifying to see 
it smoking away in the meadows across the canal, and 
was one of those small events of domestic interest 
which are apt to furnish forth more than their due 
amount of notice. But the least approach to a 



COMMUNITY LIFE. I 7 3 

grumble at such a casualty, inspired Mother Margaret 
with a kind of horror, and she silenced it with one of 
her strongest reprehensions. 

The gleeful simplicity of her nature was manifested 
in her love of children, and even in her tenderness 
towards the brute creation. Children and young 
people were always at home with her ; she had been 
used to them from her early years, and perfectly un- 
derstood how to win their confidence. Nor, as we 
have hinted, could she exclude from her capacious 
heart even the dumb animals. It would be hard to 
say whether the cats in the convent, or the birds in 
the garden, most shared her benevolence, and as their 
interests were liable to clash one with another, she 
was sometimes perplexed to adjust their rival claims. 
Under the apple tree, already mentioned, a daily 
breakfast of crumbs was provided in winter-time for 
the robins and sparrows, who took full advantage of 
her hospitality, and gathered there in great numbers. 
One morning, a Sister entering our Mother's room, 
found her standing at the open window, looking into 
her apple-tree, up which the grey cat had just climbed 
in search of prey. In her zeal to protect the robins, 
Mother Margaret had seized the first offensive weapon 
that came to hand, which chanced to be a broom, and 
had thrown it with no weak arm at the four-footed 
marauder. Unluckily it failed in its object, missed 
the cat, and only stuck in the branches, and a little 
abashed at being thus discovered, our Mother en- 
treated the Sister to find some means for recovering 

the broom, " or Sister ," she said, " will be in a 

sad way when she misses it." 

Nothing distressed her so much as the notion of 



174 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

anything, whether man or beast, not having enough 
to eat. Hence the lean appearance of the sheep on 
the Eoman Campagna was quite a trouble to her as 
she journeyed from Civita Vecchia to Borne, and she 
insisted on throwing them pieces of bread, in spite of 
the representation of her companion that sheep do 
not eat bread. The half-starved flocks of turkeys 
daily driven through the streets of the Eternal City 
likewise moved her to compassion, and she every 
morning provided herself with crumbs, and station- 
ing herself at the window, watched for their approach, 
that she might throw them some provision as they 
passed. 

In her daily intercourse with her religious children, 
there was the same mixture of strength and simplicity. 
Those who were most sensible of her maternal tender- 
ness shall describe it in their own words. " The care 
and thought which she had for each," writes one of 
her Eeligious, ei was something that could not be told. 
With all her business, there was nothing too little for 
her to remember. She knew in the most trivial cir- 
cumstances what each one would feel, and would be 
sure to say or do something to put the soul at rest. 
If any family trial befell any of us, she felt it more 
than if it were her own ; specially w r as she distressed 
if she had to break to any the death of a relative. 
On our feasts, she always had a picture or some other 
little present for each one, and if absent, she was sure 
to write on feast days or anniversaries of our holy 
profession." Her maternal kindness to her religious 
children in times of domestic trouble is recorded by 
many who experienced it in almost the same language. 
"You would have thought," they write, "that we 



CO MM UNITY LIFE. 1 7 5 

were the only people in the world she had to think 
for." 

Ber singular quickness of perception frequently 
gave her an insight into the interior of others, which 
enabled her to read their very thoughts. A young 
novice confessed that being once engaged in sweeping 
some matting, she was tempted to murmur at the 
hard work when our Mother passed by on her way to 
her room. Her quick glance had probably discerned 
the feelings expressed on the countenance of the other, 
for she presently opened her door, and, calling her in, 
gave her a little picture of the infant Jesus sweeping 
the house of Nazareth, saying, "Here is something 
that if you look at will make all your work easy." 
The same young Eeligious had received directions to 
do a particular piece of work, and the thought how she 
should set about it was occupying her mind in choir, 
and causing her distractions, when our Mother came 
up to her as she stood in her stall, and said, " Child, 
why are you letting that work distract you and keep 
you from the presence of God % " Another Eeligious 
had been changed week after week from one employ- 
ment to another, till her patience became somewhat 
tried, and she more than once found herself giving way 
to the thought that she was being made nothing but a 
stop-gap. Going one morning into our Mother's room, 
she was saluted by the words, " Well, Sister Stop-gap, 
what a good thing it is to have some stop-gaps in the 
house/' and she was obliged to acknowledge how ex- 
actly our Mother had read her thoughts. The same 
Eeligious was very desirous to go to Holy Communion 
on a day which was not a general communicating day, 
but feeling a hesitation about asking permission to do 



I 7 6 COM MUNI TY LIFE. 

so, she contented herself with praying to her angel 
that if it were the will of God something might 
happen to enable her to go. Just as the Mass began, 
our Mother touched her on the shoulder, and whis- 
pered, "You can go to Communion to-day, if you 
like." And incidents very similar to this are narrated 
by other Religious. 

In a general way the experience of most would 
probably be, that her manner of guiding others was 
rather by act than by word. She was not an advocate 
for very minute and burdensome direction, which 
might hamper the freedom of the soul, or interfere 
with the action of God. She contented herself with 
inculcating a few great principles, such as purity of 
intention, and the habit of acting for God alone. 
One of her Religious, after an interview in which she 
had opened her whole soul to our Mother, expressed 
her regret that such opportunities of speaking heart 
to heart were of such rare occurrence. " It would be 
waste of time ;" she replied ; "better to speak heart to 
heart with our Beloved." Most will be able to recall 
some powerful word of this kind said from time to 
time, leaving behind its indelible impression : such as 
that frequent exhortation to " begin with fidelity," 
and that as constant reminder to "do all for love." 
" Try and do everything for love," she writes ; " speak 
for love, think of love, work for love, sigh for love ; 
never seek any other love than that of our Beloved 
Jesus. Oh, Name of love, may we all have no other 
love than His ! " 

When visiting any of the smaller convents, she 
seems to have pleased herself by occasionally taking 
part in the ordinary work of the house, and practis- 



COMMUNITY LIFE. I 7 7 

ing various acts of humiliation, with greater freedom 
than she could do at Stone. Thus a young Eeligious 
was once distressed by her presenting herself as her 
aid in the refectory; and letters from the other houses 
frequently allude to similar incidents. No doubt she 
felt it a recreation to be occasionally released from the 
far more wearisome duties which devoured her time 
at Stone. There, her days were divided between the 
guest-house and her writing-table, and subject to the 
incessant interruptions of business. Her correspond- 
ence was prodigious ; nor can we venture on any- 
thing like an estimate of its real extent. She over- 
looked the affairs of her distant houses in their 
minutest details ; and to read her correspondence 
with the local Superioresses, you would gather the idea 
that she was personally present in each house, and 
that she had each member of the Community — we had 
almost said each article of furniture — distinct in her 
mind's eye. In addition to the daily intercourse 
which she kept up with her own religious Sisters, 
she had to answer the demands of friends, and few 
persons possessed a wider circle of friends than Mother 
Margaret. Of course, a very large portion of neces- 
sary correspondence was carried on by others, but 
there were certain letters which Mother Margaret 
always wrote with her own hand. One day," at a time 
when much important business was awaiting settle- 
ment, the Religious who acted as her confidential 
secretary observed that the first letters which she 
despatched were addressed, one to an old woman 
whom she had known in Belgium, and to whom she 
wrote offering her a home in the hospital ; and the 
other to a person also in distress, whose sick boy she 

M 



178 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

was going to receive into the Orphanage, free of ex- 
pense. Having made some remark on her writing 
these letters with her own hand, when so many others 
were awaiting reply : " Yes," observed Mother Mar- 
garet, " there are plenty more to be written, but I 
always like to put the unfortunate first " 

The thought and attention which she bestowed on 
what some would consider minor points of detail, 
would hardly be credited. Every subject connected 
with the government of her five Communities, and the 
particular requirements of each Sister, were made the 
subject of anxious reflection and earnest prayer. She 
never decided on the least thing, such as the removal 
of a Religious from one house to another, without 
recommending it to God. On one occasion, when a 
change of this sort had been determined on, she ex- 
claimed to her companion, " How I have prayed to 
know who to send ! Truly prayer is my light ! " And 
circumstances often occurred which proved in how 
marked a way she was guided by God in these ap- 
parently indifferent matters. 

Mother Margaret's singular influence over others 
was quite as much manifested in her intercourse with 
seculars as with her own religious children. Some of 
those who have been on intimate terms with her de- 
scribed her loss as " something gone out of their life." 
" She seemed," says one, "to belong especially to each 
one, and always to make one's interest her peculiar 
care. I have often thought how wonderful it was 
how she found time for everybody's needs. I have 
many times written to her about things purely per- 
sonal, or relating to friends, or persons in trouble, and. 
almost without exception have received answers with- 



COMMUNITY LIFE. I 7 9 

in a few days, often by return of post. I used to 
wonder how it could be that she could at once enter 
into it all, and advise and help as if it were the 
only thing in her mind, knowing, as I did, all the 
cares and wide interests which claimed her atten- 
tion/' 

This last observation finds its echo again and again 
in the letters of her secular acquaintance. One who 
knew her only by a single visit writes to thank the 
friend who introduced them to one another, saying, 
" I have so often thought of your words, ' You will 
feel at once that you have found a mother who will 
take you to her heart ; ' it was exactly what she 
seemed to do, and the kind, loving letters I have from 
her will now be most precious to me." " I have no 
one now left," says another, " who will take the same 
kind interest in me or my children as she did ; she 
was everything to them, and always advised me what 
to do for their interest, body and soul." Words like 
these might be quoted to weariness ; and it is not too 
much to say that her relations with those outside her 
own Community made her loss as much felt in the 
world as within the walls of her own convents. 
" Who shall tell the number of persons in the world," 
says Bishop Ullathorne, "whose minds or whose 
course of life have been happily settled by her wise 
and judicious counsels ? — gentlemen as well as ladies, 
priests as well as seculars, rich as well as poor. And 
how many of them have been able to trace some turn 
in the tide of their life to her searching or encourag- 
ing words ! Not that she sought them, but they 
sought her, and could not resist giving her their con- 
fidence. And when once a person had given their con- 



1 80 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

fidence to her, she never lost sight of them or forgot 
to pray for their necessities." 

These remarks apply equally to persons of all 
classes who were wont to consult Mother Margaret, 
not only on spiritual matters, but on their personal 
and domestic affairs, applying to her as to a real 
mother in all their troubles and concerns. Her com- 
passion for poor tradesmen was very great, and she 
would never allow them to wait for their money. She 
once gave a considerable order to a carpenter who had 
recently set up in business, expressly to help him 
through his first difficulties. He himself, after her 
death, related that, being sent for to the convent one 
day, he feared he was going to be dismissed, as he 
knew he had been dilatory over the work. To his 
great surprise, Mother Margaret said to him, "I know, 

B , you must be short of money, and the wood 

will be an expense to you • so I will advance you part 
of the price at once." He was so overwhelmed he 
hardly knew what to say. This timely assistance 
enabled him to buy his materials and finish the work 
quickly, and with greater advantage to himself. But 
it was the kindness of the act which especially struck 
him. " I felt that she thought of me and cared for 
me," he said, " and that is what no one else ever did." 

There remains for us to notice one feature in 
Mother Margaret's life and character which stands 
apart from all the rest, and by which the world best 
knew her, though to the world it was never more 
than partially revealed — we mean, of course, her 
spirit of active charity. It sprang from the same 
source as her munificence towards God, from that in- 
stinct of liberality, namely, which manifested itself in 



CO MM UNITY LIFE. 1 8 1 

her early days of poverty and dependence, no less than 
when she had the alms of a Community at her disposal. 
With her, generosity almost seemed at times to be 
the indulgence of a natural instinct. " What a plea- 
sure it is to give ! " she would say. " I fear I shall 
have no merit in it ; how can people help giving ? " 
But more than this, the passages we have quoted 
exactly depict the character of her liberality. She 
habitually regarded all things as God's, and as such 
to be returned to Him again, either directly, in the 
service of His sanctuary, or indirectly, in the person of 
His poor. She never looked on what she disposed of 
as her own, but dealt with it as with something which 
the Master of the household had placed in her hands, 
simply to be dispensed in His service. She often 
used to say that money was the very least of God's 
gifts, and invariably acted on the principle that, as a 
matter of course, He would provide what was to be 
spent for His glory. It cannot be denied that some 
of her principles of conduct on this point were 
amongst those things which are more to be admired 
than imitated, and belonged to the romance of disin- 
terestedness. Superiors often found it difficult to 
enforce the most obvious rules of prudence, for when 
the community was in actual want, she would often 
give away the money received in alms to others less 
necessitous, perhaps, than herself. She felt a bashful- 
ness in receiving pensions for her orphans. " If I 
could," she would say, " I would keep all the poor 
children for nothing, and never ask one penny for 
them: it is such a pleasure to give to Almighty God." 
She often took in entire families of orphans, both boys 
and girls, free of charge, and her character in this 



1 52 COMMUNITY LIFE, 

matter was so well known, that applications were con- 
tinually being made to her to receive cases, which the 
applicants would hardly have ventured to present in 
other quarters. " Send them to Mother Margaret," 
said one gentleman, speaking of some such perplexing 
case of charity ; " she is the refuge of the destitute." 
In the same way she felt a reluctance to receive pay- 
ment for any kind of work done in the convent, if it 
were for the Church. When remonstrated with on 
one occasion for having offered to make a vestment 
for <£30, and then causing it to be so elaborately em- 
broidered as to be worth more than double the sum, 
she replied, " I can't help it ; I am so ashamed of 
asking to have money given me. Even when a ser- 
vant I was just the same. I could not bear doing 
things for gain, but of course that was pride." 

It was her practical experience of the generosity of 
Almighty God which made her so constantly reiterate 
the maxim, " Never be stingy with our Lord : He 
will never be outdone in generosity ; He, the Giver 
of all things, alone is grateful." She so knew and 
trusted to the liberality of God, that, as we have else- 
where said, her favourite resource when in difficulties 
was to undertake some fresh work of charity. " She 
rarely had recourse to begging," writes the Eeligious 
who enjoyed her closest confidence; " partly because 
it was seldom successful, and partly because, as she 
said, she always seemed to hear a secret reproach from 
Almighty God, who whispered in her heart, ' Have / 
ever failed you 1 ' " 

" I could not trust in man if I tried," she would 
say, " for this is the way I see it — If God help you, 
who can hinder Him 1 and if He will not, who else 



COMMUNITY LIFE. 1 83 

can % " On one occasion, a person who had promised 
a considerable sum to a certain charity, not only re- 
fused to pay it, but used the most insulting language. 
Mother Margaret had always felt an interior convic- 
tion that the promised aid would never come, and 
when the painful scene was over, during the course of 
which she had herself remained perfectly calm, she sent 
for the priest to whom the promise had been given, and, 
stretching out her hand to him, said, " There, Father, 
is your <£200 gone. You will come to my way of 
thinking, and find out what the promises of creatures 
are worth." Then addressing her Eeligious, " Mind," 
she said, " if ever in time to come you are tempted to 
count on human help for carrying on a work, you will 
find it will all go smash. It has begun in confidence 
in God alone, and it must go on so to the end. 
You will all come to my way of thinking : In Te, 
Domine, speravi." 

As has been already said, her favourite charity was 
towards orphans. Remembering her own early de- 
solation, her heart flowed out towards them with 
peculiar tenderness : she would never have them 
dressed in a way to stamp them with pauperism, or 
allow their food to be weighed out and measured to 
them, but given according to the appetite and require- 
ments of each. Yet, though she did not wish her 
orphans to be treated as paupers, she always desired 
that they should be brought up to labour, and not be 
unfitted for the position they were to fill in after-life. 
Her strong practical sense was apparent in all her 
directions on this head. " Be sure," she writes, " to 
look to the cleanliness of the place • to see persons 



1 84 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

speaking fine and looking dirty is something dread- 
ful." And again : " The best education you can give 
these children is to make them clean, orderly, and in- 
dustrious." She showed them a mother's tenderness, 
yet for serious faults she would have them severely 
corrected. Yet, at the time when she was herself in 
charge of children, whenever she imposed a punish- 
ment on any of them, she made it a rule to perform 
some penance herself, which might be equivalent. " It 
is because I was an orphan myself, and ill-treated," she 
said, "that I always made myself suffer something 
when obliged to punish a child." 

The number of those whom she rescued from desti- 
tution and raised to respectability was very consider- 
able, and the records of these charities are not with- 
out beauties of their own. Two of the Eeligious, 
returning one day from visiting the sick, reported 
that there was an orphan child in the town without 
a home, living on the charity of the neighbours, now 
in one house and now in another, and sometimes 
sleeping in the street. " And did you know that, and 
leave the child there 1 " said Mother Margaret, with 
flashing eyes ; "go out again, this moment, and bring 
the child to my room." Her orders were gladly 
enough obeyed, and we well remember her look as 
the motherless child was brought to her. She found 
a home for her in the hospital, where the little 
orphan was known by the soubriquet of "Polly 
Providence." 

Our limits forbid our adding more on this subject, 
of saying all that might be said of Mother Margaret's 
charity to orphans ; but we must add that it was a 
charity that partly met with its reward in the affec- 



COMMUNITY LIFE, 1 8 5 

tion of those on whom it was bestowed. " Oh, what 
a tender Mother she has been to me, and to hundreds 
of others ! " wrote one who had been reared from in- 
fancy under her care, and who heard of her death on 
board a Queen's ship at Plymouth ; and the sorrow 
and devotion of her orphan boys at Stone was 
evinced after her funeral in a touching manner. They 
contrived to purchase some choice flowers, and 
requested to be allowed to lay them, with their own 
hands, upon her grave. When the flowers were 
afterwards removed by the sacristan, a letter was 
found concealed among them, which, as the genuine 
expression of children's love to a good Mother, shall 
be here transcribed : — 

" Dearest and Severed Mother, — It is almost 
impossible to express our gratitude to you, but will 
you accept the flowers we lay upon your grave? 
though we well know the far better flowers that now 
form your heavenly wreath. Dear Mother, to the 
honour of God we will also beg Father A. to offer the 
Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for you. — Your grateful 
and loving children, 

"The Orphan Boys." 

The foundation of St Mary's Hospital at Stone has 
already been spoken of; its inmates were always made 
to know Mother Margaret's sunniest side. She re- 
served for them her heartiest and most cheering 
words, and her brightest smiles. If anything arose 
to try the patience of those in charge, it was hopeless 
to appeal to her for any help that involved the 
necessity of a reproof; she never appeared in the 



1 8 6 CO MM UNITY LIFE. 

wards except as a gleam of sunshine to the inmates. 
The thought of their comfort and happiness occupied 
her even at a distance, and in her letters we find her 
sending them her Christmas gifts, and reminding her 
Religious "to make the dear invalids happy." From 
time to time she contrived to give them little feasts 
and holidays. " We have had two great fetes in the 
meadows," she writes to a friend, " one for the hospital 
and one for the schools. The hospital one would 
have pleased you. They were carried there in the 
cart, and the tea-boilers went in a wheelbarrow. We 
were primitive Christians, and went to the fields with- 
out cloak or bonnet." In the August of the year 
1867, only a month or two before she was laid 
prostrate by her last illness, she took the opportunity 
of the holidays to give her hospital patients a grand 
entertainment in the garden of the young ladies' 
school. In spite of her extreme weakness, and the 
bodily sufferings which were then gaining fast upon 
her, she devoted herself to their amusement during 
the whole afternoon, saying, when it was over, " I 
am as tired as a dog, but it has been a happy day." 

Mother Margaret's benevolence flowed out in other 
channels besides those we have named. One severe 
winter she observed a canal boat fast bound up by 
the frost, and something prompted her to pray ear- 
nestly for the poor people who might be there. That 
night two rough-looking girls presented themselves at 
the convent, and asked to see the Sisters. They were 
found totally ignorant of religion, and received in- 
struction. When questioned what had put into their 
heads the idea of coming to the convent, they replied 
that thev did not know, but " something seemed to 



COMMUNITY LIFE. 1 87 

draw them. " Some years later a great many boats 
were frozen up for several weeks, and the people on 
board were reduced to great distress. Mother Mar- 
garet entertained them with her usual liberality. A 
general invitation was given to all the children of the 
boats to come to school, with the promise of food and 
fire for the day \ whilst the elders came in also for their 
portion, and twice a day were served with it in the 
convent porch. On this occasion, also, Christian in- 
struction was given for the first time to many who, 
until then, had been living in a nominally Christian 
land as simple Pagans. One of the boys so instructed 
had never heard of our divine Lord, and was filled 
with astonishment when first he listened to the story 
of His birth in a stable. He repeated the tale to a 
younger brother, and complained of his incredulity, 
saying, " He wadna believe me when I told him ! " 
But when he heard the history of the Passion, and 
of our Lord's death on the Cross, his feelings broke 
out in language like that of the royal Clovis under 
similar circumstances : "If I had been there they 
should na ha' done it." 

In general, however, Mother Margaret preferred 
supporting the charities which were administered with- 
in her own convent to indiscriminate alms-giving out 
of doors. Indeed, a little address was sometimes re- 
quired in presenting a case for consideration. Often 
enough the applicant received a rebuff at first, and 
had to thaw our Mother's good-will by a course oi 
judicious diplomacy. But on such occasions it was 
amusing to see the struggle between prudence and 
compassion, and the gradual steps by which the latter 
feeling was made at last to triumph. A Eeligious, 



T 88 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

who at that time had the charge of some external 
charities, was interested in two poor persons whom it 
was desirable to get married, but who were too poor 
to pay the registrar's fee of five shillings. She took 
the case to our Mother, and received only a sharp 
reprimand for meddling with such affairs. With 
great difficulty she extracted permission to beg the 
required sum of a charitable friend, and having 
succeeded in her quest, ventured, on next meeting 
our Mother, silently to exhibit her two half-crowns. 
Mother Margaret, however, thought fit to behold 
them with an air of grave disapprobation, but next 
morning, sending for the Religious, she addressed her 
something as follows : " Have you married those 
people yet? Not till to-morrow? I suppose they 
have not got a ring % There is one that will do. 
And has she got a good dress % Nothing but rags, 
do you say % That is not proper respect to the Sacra- 
ment. I have got something up-stairs that will do ; 
you can have it for her. And I suppose they must 
have their breakfast here. There, off with you, and 
none of your thanks : and mind, child, you never 
make up any more matches/' 

But what was her charity for the temporal relief of 
her neighbour compared to her zeal for their souls'? 
It consumed her like a fire. " I go up and down the 
cloisters," she once said, " saying, Lord, what can I 
do to save souls % " She writes from Walthamstow, 
" Forget yourselves, my dear Sisters, and think only 
of God's interests. Souls, souls, souls — let that be your 
one prayer day and night. Prayer alone will do it. 
Aim at the perfection of your state by prayer, humility, 
and penance, and God will hear our sighs and give us 



COMMUNITY LIFE. 1 89 

what we ask." In comparison with what she longed 
to do for this great end, all that she had effected seemed 
in her eyes as nothing. " Whenever I enter the choir," 
she said, " it seems to me as if our Lord reproaches 
me for having done nothing yet." 

And another time she expressed her wish that she 
could turn all her Eeligious into Friars Preachers, and 
send them through the world like so many St Vincent 
Ferrers. Strong expressions of this sort sometimes 
led to the very false impression that she sought to 
usurp the functions of the priesthood, and that she 
imagined the active work of her Communities could 
supply for the want of priestly ministrations. But 
in point of fact, lofty as were her desires, she sought 
to carry them out by the very humblest means. If 
from time to time she reminded her Religious that 
" they were Called to the apostolate as far as any 
women could be," she never failed to let them know 
that the only scene of their apostolic labours lay in 
the hospital or the poor school. Some kinds of active 
work she deliberately refused to undertake, such as 
the charge of reformatories, believing that the vocation 
of her children was rather to preserve the innocent 
than to rescue the fallen. And she declined taking 
part in several other undertakings which, had publicity 
and a great name been her object, would certainly 
have offered better opportunities for attaining it than 
the very unpretending labours in which she preferred 
that her children should be engaged. 

It was one of Mother Margaret's principles to 
secure first the objects of her charity, whether chil- 
dren or sick people, and place them where she 
could, leaving it to time to provide suitable accommo- 



190 COMMUNITY LIFE. 

dation. The consequence of this was, that the be- 
ginnings of all her charitable institutions have been 
rough in the extreme, and a most admirable exercise 
of the virtue of longanimity to all concerned. More- 
over, her ardent desire to gather under her wing all 
who were in need, made her over-estimate the stretch- 
ing capacity even of her gutta percha walls ; perhaps, 
even to the detriment of health. But, notwithstand- 
ing many trials, there were also great advantages in 
getting a certain small number trained under difficult 
circumstances, who were able to give a tone to the 
after-comers before the institution attained any size ; 
and, in the only instances when she acted otherwise, 
and made her preparations beforehand, she always 
remarked that the institutions did not thrive like 
those that had begun in a garret or a cellar. 

She was ingenious in her plans for adapting such 
offices to new and unheard-of purposes ; and when 
she had located her Religious in these premises, she 
expected them to do their work there cheerfully until 
such time as Providence should send them something 
better. Many of her letters are addressed to those 
engaged in the very arduous duties of the kitchen. 
" Have courage," she writes ; " and when you are hot 
and weary, offer it all for the suffering souls in pur- 
gatory, or to save some soul ready to perish in mortal 
sin." And again : " Eemember our dear Lord is 
with you in the kitchen as well as in the choir. He 
sees and blesses all. Have courage and patience — 
that is the necessary thing for a cook. Our seraphic 
Mother St Catherine will help you. She was cook 
and maid-of-all-work to her family. You are some- 



COMMUNITY LIFE. 1 9 1 

what higher ; you are cook to the spouses of Jesus 
Christ ! " And never did she omit to remind those 
whom she addressed, that no amount of anxiety or 
hard work, or intercourse with seculars, was ever to 
be suffered to efface the religious character, either 
interiorly or exteriorly. " When conversing with se- 
culars, " she writes to one much engaged with the 
external world, " never forget that you are a spouse 
of Jesus, and that you are to kindle the holy fire of 
love in the souls of all with whom you converse ; with 
your eyes, your ears, and your tongue : for remem- 
ber that the eye of God is never for one moment 
from you." 

What has been said will perhaps suffice to give 
some idea of Mother Margaret's spirit of universal 
benevolence, and the principles on which she carried 
out her works of active charity. She often quoted 
Olier's words, " If God loves you He will humble you, 
and while he raises the work He will abase the work- 
man." Her charitable institutions had no pretension 
about them to be greater or better than those 01 
others. Often enough the want of means and other 
providential circumstances hindered her from bring- 
ing them to completion in her own lifetime, and she 
could but bequeath to her children the rough outline 
of her greatest designs. But the outline, however 
rough, was sketched by the hand of a master ; may 
all those on whom the duty falls of finishing and per- 
fecting it preserve unmarred its noblest features, and 
hand on to future generations the principles which 
Mother Margaret left stamped upon all her works — 
generosity to God and man, self-sacrifice and self- 



192 VISIT TO ROME. 

annihilation, the absence of all human views and in- 
terests, and the simple and single purpose to accom- 
plish all things for God and for God alone t 



CHAPTEE XL 

VISIT TO ROME. 

We must now return to the thread of our history, 
passing over a year or two during which the annals of 
the Community present few incidents of general in- 
terest. Year by year it grew and developed, but its 
very development rendered it more and more impera- 
tive to provide for the future security of an edifice 
which was rapidly assuming proportions unlooked for 
in the days of its first foundation. The Papal Eescript 
obtained in 1851 had not proved sufficiently explicit 
as to the degree of exemption thereby granted to the 
Eeligious from the jurisdiction of the Ordinary, and 
questions had arisen in the diocese of Clifton which 
manifested the necessity that the powers of the Eccles- 
iastical Superior should be more exactly defined. 
Moreover, as the number of convents increased, it be- 
came desirable that their union as a Congregation, 
under one general Superioress, should receive some 
more authoritative sanction. It was therefore at length 
decided, by advice of Bishop Ullathorne, and with the 
approval of the Master- General, that Mother Margaret 
should herself proceed to Eome, in order that the 
whole status of the Congregation might be laid before 
the proper authorities, and a definitive decree obtained 
for the settlement of its future government. 



VISIT TO ROME. 1 93 

This important step was finally determined on in 
the autumn of the year 1858, and on the 14th of 
October Mother Margaret left Stone, in company with 
one Eeligious, and under the escort of the Rev. J. S. 
Northcote. On the 21st of the same month they ar- 
rived in Eome, where their first night was spent at 
the Hotel of the Minerva, close to the great Dominican 
Church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva, which they 
visited the following morning ; and Mother Margaret's 
spirits, which had been before at a very low ebb, 
quickly revived after she had heard Mass at the tomb 
of our Holy Mother St Catherine. 

By the kind exertions of Monsignor Talbot, the 
three travellers were able to take up their residence 
in the Palazzo Antonelli, part of which belonged to 
an English lady, who resided there with her chaplain, 
and who generously placed three apartments at their 
disposal. 

The Most Eev. Master-General was still absent in 
Naples, and the first Dominican Father who visited 
our travellers was Pere Hyacinth Besson, who had 
formerly been for several years prior of Sta. Sabina, 
the French Novitiate House, but was now engaged 
in painting the restored Chapter House of San Sisto. 

Monsignor Talbot having made an appointment to 
meet Mother Margaret and her companion at the 
Vatican, they proceeded thither a day or two after 
their establishment in the Palazzo Antonelli, and after 
having transacted their business, they paid their first 
visit to St Peters, the glory and magnificence of 
which more than equalled Mother Margaret's antici- 
pations. The following day an English friend drove 
them to the Basilica of St Paul's, then fast approach- 

N 



194 VISIT TO ROME. 

ing completion. The vast size of these buildings, and 
their costly materials, seemed to give Mother Mar- 
garet's soul breathing space, and yet her general im- 
pression was one of disappointment. Her first letter 
to her children in England paints her feelings in a 
characteristic manner : — 

" My very dear Children, — It seems seven years 
since I left Stone, and nothing makes up to me for 
our happy convent home. I know it is a great grace 
and favour to be where the blood of so many martyrs 
has been shed, and so many saints have lived and 
died, and where their bodies repose ; still all this does 
not awaken in me the one only happy thought I have 
in our convent home — Our God with us. Could I 
make our churches as beautiful as they are in this 
Holy City I w T ould gladly do it, to honour our Hidden 
God, and to increase the love, faith, and devotion of 
the people ; as it is, we must do our best. I am dis- 
appointed; I expected more than I find here, in 
many ways. Had I never been out of England, it 
would have struck me more ; but I certainly like 
Belgium much better. Cleanliness and holiness do 
not go together here. Pray much for our affairs to be 
forwarded. I long to see you all again. I beg God 
to bless and love you at every holy place I go to, 
and I ask the saints whose shrines I visit to pray for 
you all." 

The petition of the Congregation, which had been 
prepared in England, was presented to the Prefect of 
Propaganda, by the Eev. Mr Northcote, on the 26th 
of October. His Eminence received it kindly, and 



VISIT TO ROME. 1 95 

gave every hope of a favourable issue ; but he ex- 
plained that the course which the affair would have to 
go through would necessarily be tedious. Two days 
later, by appointment of his Eminence, Mother Mar- 
garet and her companion had an interview with him 
at the Propaganda, and were most kindly and gra- 
ciously received. After this the necessary business was 
put in hand ; and, pending its completion, and the 
return of the General from Naples, the travellers 
occupied themselves in visiting the various ho]y places 
of Eome, especially those most interesting to the chil- 
dren of St Dominic and St Catherine. Through the 
kindness of Padre Sallua, they were admitted within 
the enclosure of the two convents of Dominican Nuns, 
those, namely, of San Domenico e Sisto, and of Santa 
Caterina da Siena. In this latter convent they spent 
the Feast of All Saints of the Order, and were re- 
ceived with most sisterly affection and hospitality. 
An equally hospitable reception was given them by 
the Community of San Domenico e Sisto, where they 
had the happiness of venerating the hand of St Cathe- 
rine, and the other precious relics which are there so 
carefully preserved; and were presented with aVesperal 
and Processional — rare treasures in those days, be- 
fore the late reprint of the choral books of the Order. 
Another letter describes their visits to the churches 
of San Sisto and Santa Sabina, the scenes of so many 
incidents in the life of our Holy Father. The Padre 
Sindico of Santa Sabina showed great interest in the 
two English Eeligious, and regarded their appearance 
as a sort of miracle. Taking them to a spot whence 
they could look into the enclosure and behold the 
famous orange-tree planted by St Dominic, he 



I96 VISIT TO ROME, 

pointed to its new young shoot, which he was pleased 
to interpret as a symbol of the English Domini- 
canesses. 

Two visits to the Catacombs of Sta. Agnese and 
San Callisto were among the incidents of their pilgrim- 
age, of which Mother Margaret cherished the most 
devout remembrance. She visited the latter on the 
Feast of St Cecilia, whose body formerly reposed 
there ; a grand subterranean festa being celebrated at 
her tomb. Another day the letters record a visit to 
the Scala Santa, which the two pilgrims ascended on 
their knees, for Mother Margaret would not be de- 
terred from accomplishing this act of devotion, al- 
though the effort was exceedingly distressing to her ; 
large callosities having formed on her knees, which 
rendered the act of kneeling at all times most painful. 
Her greatest treat, however, consisted in her long 
visits to St Peter's. She liked to go there when all 
was quiet, and spend the morning, saying her prayers, 
and walking about that noble Basilica, the vastness 
of which so well corresponded to the greatness of her 
conceptions. On the Feast of the Dedication they 
attended the High Mass, and venerated the great 
relics exposed on that day, and the sight of the great 
golden candelabra " made our Mother quite happy." 
They were also able to visit the subterranean crypt, 
hearing Mass and communicating near the tomb of St 
Peter. " The oftener we go to St Peter's/' they 
write, " the better we love it, and we promise our- 
selves some more quiet hours there before we leave, 
for there is nothing to compare with it." But the 
great event of the month of November was their 
audience with his Holiness, Pius IX., who received 



VISIT TO ROME. 1 97 

them with his usual benevolence — Mother Margaret's 
heart overflowing with joy as she bent to kiss the 
foot of " the Christ on earth." For what other words 
could rise to the lips of a daughter of St Catherine, 
as for the first time she paid her homage to the Vicar 
of our Lord % The interview was of course short and 
ceremonious, but on taking leave Mother Margaret 
begged for a blessing for her whole Community, which 
his Holiness gave with all his heart, pronouncing the 
words, " Benedictio Dei Omnipotentis, Patris, et Filii, et 
Spivitus Sancti, descendat super te, et super omnes 
sorores tuas" in that deep, sonorous voice, which rests 
so ineffaceably in the memory of all who have ever 
heard it. 

The memorial, or petition of the Congregation, had 
meanwhile been drawn up, and through the kind 
assistance of Father Mullooly, the Prior of the Irish 
Convent of San Clemente, translated into Italian. 
But before any answer could be given to this memorial 
by Propaganda, it had to be transmitted to England, 
and the opinion of all the English bishops taken re- 
garding it. This of course involved a considerable 
delay,- and, moreover, great doubts were entertained 
as to the final result; for the main object of the 
memorial was to petition the Holy See that the houses 
of the Congregation should be placed in perpetuity 
under the government of the Order, and not under 
that of the Ordinary, and it was well known that this 
kind of exemption was rarely to be obtained. Mother 
Margaret, however, did not allow herself to be dis- 
couraged. Even when letters arrived from friends in 
England, who seemed to regard the whole business as 
a failure, her confidence never gave way. " I have no 



198 VISIT TO ROME. 

human motive in this wish," she writes. " I know it 
will bring its difficulties and its crosses, but this must 
not make me unfaithful to the Order to which God 
has deigned to call me, and to the strong impression 
that has ever urged me to aim at this. Everything 
has gone so contrary to what I expected, and I feel 
so sure that Rome will do as it thinks best, that I find 
the only peace for my soul is to be abandoned to God, 
and pray and force my will to be ready for all that 
God wills. All I can do is to pray and trust in God, 
and our Divine Mother Mary, that, as all hitherto has 
been done by His Almighty hand, He will not fail to 
bring it as He wills. ... I cannot reason on the 
subject ; few here would understand me, and when 
asked what I want, I only say, * Not to be separated 
from my Order, and to be a Congregation/ " Prayer, 
as usual, was her one resource, and on the 10th of 
November she began a No vena to our holy Mother 
St Catherine, every day visiting her tomb at the 
Minerva, and commending to her intercession the 
issue of the whole affair. 

Her faith and patience, however, had both to be 
tried. Week after week passed by, and no answer 
was received from England ; and the Feast of the 
Immaculate Conception found them still in Rome, 
with no present prospect of return. A ray of hope 
presented itself just before Christmas, when letters 
from England were received by Mgr. Talbot, which 
appeared to promise a favourable answer. This 
circumstance was not of much value in itself, but 
Mother Margaret felt so thankful for it, that to express 
her gratitude, she immediately sent out and hired 
two Pifferari, to pipe a Novena of thanks before 



VISIT TO ROME. 1 99 

the picture of the Madonna at the corner of the 
street. 

On Christmas Eve the two pilgrims obtained 
admittance into a little tribune over the choir of St 
Peter's, and assisted, from their retired seats, at the 
Matins and Midnight Mass. The exact ceremonies of 
the choir, the exquisite pastoral music, and the sight 
of the little Seminarists — the Pietrini, as they are 
called — communicating at the Midnight Mass, filled 
them with devotion and delight. They assisted at 
the grand function of the Papal Mass in the ladies 
tribune, wearing the Belgian hooded cloak over their 
religious habit, three Sisters of Charity being seated 
near them. The emotion which Mother Margaret 
felt in beholding Almighty God served with so mag- 
nificent a worship, — in seeing, as she said, "the 
greatest man of the earth say Mass," — was so powerful 
and absorbing that at the time she was wholly 
unconscious of fatigue. It was to her the supreme 
moment of her life, and one to which she often after- 
wards referred. " I am afraid of saying what I felt 
about the Pope," she once remarked, " lest I should 
scandalise people. I wanted to kneel there and look 
at him for hours. There was all that was most grand 
and powerful on earth — the man before whom kings 
were as nothing ! And when I heard him sing Mass I 
cannot express what I felt ; it was the god of the earth 
prostrate in adoration before the God of heaven." She 
wrote to the same effect a few days after Christmas : 
" I could not put into words what I felt on Christmas 
Day. It was like one long spiritual dream. We were 
in St Peter's almost eleven hours. I really was 
there and nowhere else, and I took all I loved in 



200 VISIT TO ROME. 

England in there with me \ and what with making 
intentions, and trying to offer you all with the Pope's 
offering, I exhausted nature too much, and that I 
think has made me ill ever since. I cannot see the 
Pope without emotion. He seems so truly to re- 
present God upon earth." In fact her health was 
sensibly affected, and during the whole of January 
she continued seriously ill. 

By the beginning of February Mother Margaret was 
sufficiently recovered to be able to accompany some 
English friends on a visit to a little Community of 
Dominican Tertiaries established at Morlupo, a little 
village about three hours' drive from Eome. Mother 
Margaret was greatly interested in her visit to this 
Community. Everything she saw reminded her of 
her own beginnings at Coventry. The Community 
at that time reckoned but four members, very poorly 
lodged and provided for ; but in spite of their small 
numbers, engaged in all the active works of charity, 
and conducting a day-school of one hundred children. 

The following week they accompanied the same 
friends to the Dominican Convent of the Second Order 
at Marino, in order to be present at a clothing of four 
of the Religious ; the ceremony being performed by the 
Master-General himself. 

After the function was over Mother Margaret and 
her companion were summoned to the refectory, and 
afterwards joined the Community in their work-room, 
receiving from them the same kind and fraternal wel- 
come that had been given in all the other convents of 
the Order. In spite of the long fatiguing day, Mother 
Margaret declared it had done her good rather than 
harm \ and, on returning home, her spirits were farther 



VISIT TO ROME, 201 

raised by the intelligence that a letter from his Emi- 
nence Cardinal Wiseman, relative to the affairs of the 
Congregation, had at last been received at Propa- 
ganda. They began to see the end. The letter, con- 
taining the replies of the English bishops, proposed 
certain conditions under which the petition of the 
Congregation might be granted. These conditions 
would have to be taken into consideration before 
submitting the petition to the decision of his Holiness ; 
and as all this implied the necessity of negotiation 
between the authorities of the Order and Propaganda, 
and possibly further reference to England, it was 
decided that the two Eeligious should proceed home 
without further delay, and that Mr Northcote, after 
escorting them back, should return to Kome to act as 
procurator of their cause. Preparations for their de- 
parture were therefore at once begun. 

Before taking leave of the Eternal City they were 
desirous, if possible, of obtaining the favour of another 
interview with the Holy Father, in order to receive 
his parting blessing. Having been so lately presented, 
a formal audience could not be procured ; but Mgr. 
Talbot arranged that they should take their places in 
a hall of the Vatican through which his Holiness had 
to pass. On his appearance, the two Religious pre- 
sented themselves for his blessing ; and his Holiness, 
who w^as acquainted with the object of their journey 
to Rome, addressed them some remarks on the subject, 
which did not sound encouraging as to its likelihood 
of success. As he spoke in Italian, Mother Margaret 
was entirely ignorant of the tenor of his words, and 
knelt, gazing with a smile of delight on the counte- 
nance of the Holy Father, unconscious of the misgiv- 



2 02 VISIT TO ROME. 

ings which were making themselves felt in the hearts 
of her companions. When they had descended the 
Scala Regia, and once more found themselves seated 
in their carriage, Mother Margaret had to hear their 
report of what had passed, and the doubts which it 
had suggested ; but nothing was capable of shaking 
her composure. " I don't see it as you do," she said ; 
" you will see it will be granted all the same." 

They left Rome for Civita Vecchia on the 16th of 
February. 

Mother Margaret's impressions of Rome were of a 
mixed character. With its externals, as we have 
seen, she was disappointed. Her taste had been 
formed in another school, and she could not divest 
herself of preconceived ideas sufficiently to estimate 
at its full worth a form of beauty so totally at variance 
with them. But if material Rome only partially won 
her heart, so that she repeated again and again, that 
"she was in love with nothing but the Pope and St 
Peter's," there was another sense in which she ren- 
dered it the full tribute of her admiration. 

" I have been delighted," she writes, " with seeing 
the works of the Church, and how sure one is that it 
is God's Church, and that the Pope and the Cardinals 
are really God's legislators on earth, and that their 
one end is God's glory and the soul of man, although 
we know that in other respects they are but weak, 
frail men. If I could, I love the Church more and 
more, and our Order also, for it seems here like a part 
of the Church herself." 

It was on the 14th of March that the travellers 
reached Stone, where they were joyfully welcomed by 
the united Communities of Stone and Stoke. The 



VISIT TO ROME. 203 

five months of their absence had been a weary and 
anxious time to those at home : one Sister, whom 
they had left in the last stage of consumption, had 
departed to God, and there had been much sickness 
and trouble of various kinds ; but all was now for- 
gotten in the happy prospect of reunion. 

It had been arranged to give them a solemn recep- 
tion \ so the carriage which conveyed them from the 
station, and which was decorated inside with flowers 
and inscriptions of welcome, drew up, not at the con- 
vent, but at the church door within the enclosure, in 
order that they might pay their visit of thanksgiving 
to our Lord before meeting the Community. The 
Religious were all assembled in the choir, and intoned 
the Te Deum as soon as the travellers entered the 
church. Both of them declared that they had not 
heard any music half so sweet since they left England 
as that Te Deum, and the Sisters in choir were of 
opinion that the angels joined with them in singing 
it. When this was concluded, mother and children 
met together in the Community-room, and gave free 
vent to their joy. Mother Margaret's next visit was 
to Our Lady's chapel in the dormitory, which had 
been painted and decorated in her absence, and 
proved a welcome surprise. She had not forgotten 
her favourite image during her absence, but had 
obtained from his Holiness, among other privileges, 
the grant of three hundred days' indulgence for any 
prayers recited before it, under the title of " Refu- 
gium Peccatorum." 

So soon as he had safely conducted home his 
charges, Mr Northcote returned to Rome, — whilst 
prayers were offered unceasingly for the success of 



204 VISIT TO ROME. 

the business with which he was charged. The 
result was in every respect favourable to Mother 
Margaret's wishes. On the 26th of May 1859, being 
the Feast of St Philip Neri, in a special audience 
granted to the Cardinal Prefect of Propaganda for 
that purpose, his Holiness gave his assent to the pro- 
posed arrangement, and ordered that a decree should 
be drawn up, embodying the substance of the peti- 
tion, and certain conditions which had been agreed 
on between the Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, 
on behalf of the English Hierarchy, and the Master- 
General of the Dominican Order. According to the 
terms of this decree, the houses of the Religious 
founded, or hereafter to be founded in England, are 
formed into a Congregation, having one general 
Superioress, and one Novitiate house. They are 
placed immediately under the jurisdiction of the 
Master-General of the Order, who exercises his 
authority through a delegate, nominated by himself, 
his Lordship, Bishop Ullathorne, being confirmed in 
that office for his life. 

The good news was received at Stone on the 4th of 
June, being communicated in a letter from Mr North- 
cote, beginning with the words of happy augury, Deo 
gratias et Marice et S. Philippo Nerio I In thanksgiv- 
ing for this favour the Te Deum was sung on three 
successive days in all the convents of the Congrega- 
tion. Mr Northcote at once set out on his return to 
England ; and on the 11th June, being Whitsun Eve, 
he reached Stone, where, on Whit Tuesday, he sang 
a solemn High Mass of thanksgiving. 

Six months later the Master-General of the Order 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 2 O 5 

forwarded to England the diploma by which Mother 
Margaret was appointed first Prioress Provincial, such 
being the title which his Paternity had selected for 
the Superioress-General of the newly-formed Congre- 
gation, which has since received the title of "the 
Congregation of St Catherine of Sienna." 



CHAPTER XII. 

LAST FOUNDATIONS, 

The latter years of Mother Margaret's life were occu- 
pied by those extensive undertakings at Stone and 
Stoke which have been spoken of in a previous 
chapter, as well as by the establishment of new foun- 
dations at Leicester, Rhyl, St Mary Church, and 
Bromley St Leonard's, near Bow. Two of these 
foundations, those namely of Leicester and Rhyl, 
were afterwards withdrawn ; and the Community 
now established at Bow was originally fixed at Wal- 
thamstow, in Essex, whence it was removed in the 
November of 1867. 

The arduous business of establishing a new founda- 
tion was precisely one ■ of those occasions which 
brought out some of Mother Margaret's special gifts. 
Her practical sense, and the genius she possessed for 
methodical arrangement, were never displayed to 
greater advantage than when she had to begin a new 
work in a strange place, — to adapt some secular habi- 
tation to the purposes of religious life, — and to set in 
motion the whole machinery of a Community, to be 
worked in the first instance by some devoted little 



2 06 LAST FO UNDA TIONS* 

band of six or seven members. It was wonderful how 
few modifications of the ordinary Eule she allowed 
under these circumstances, and how few were ever 
required ; how she contrived that all the regular 
exercises of the Community should go on, in spite of 
every disadvantage, as steadily as at the mother- 
house ; and how happily the difficulties and drawbacks 
of the situation were wont to call into activity the 
capabilities and good- will of all concerned. 

The choir was always the first thing thought of : 
the most suitable room in the house was selected for 
the purpose, and its arrangement was always reserved 
as Mother Margaret's exclusive share. She contrived 
to give so devotional a character to these room-chapels 
that many were found to lament the day when they 
were exchanged for choirs of greater pretensions. 
As much care and expense were bestowed on the de- 
coration of the altar, and the correct carrying out of 
every ceremony, as if the Eeligious were in possession 
of a church ; nor were their slender numbers ever 
suffered to be a hindrance to the celebration of the 
greater feasts with all due solemnity. 

The foundation at Leicester was begun in the Lent 
of the year 1860. A small number of Eeligious took 
up their residence in a house occupying the site of 
part of the old Lancastrian College, called the New- 
ark. A great field of useful labour seemed open to 
them among the women and girls employed in the 
woollen manufactories, and their night-school was soon 
crowded. Mother Margaret took great interest in 
this work, and in one of her letters she announces, 
with a certain amount of glee, that she is once more 
mistress of a class, and is teaching b, &, ba, to some 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 2 O 7 

full-grown scholars. Difficulties, however, presented 
themselves in the way of securing the property at 
Leicester, and the Community was obliged to be with- 
drawn in the August of 1861. 

Extensive additions to St Dominic's Convent were 
begun about the same time, the first steps being taken 
towards commencing the choir by the demolition of 
" Job's " and the adjacent cottages. The choir and 
chapter-room, and the sanctuary of the church, were 
completed early in the year 1863, and on the 4th of 
February took place the solemn rite of the Consecra- 
tion. Invitations had been sent to every priest in the 
diocese, and in addition to the secular priests who 
were present, fifteen of the Dominican Fathers assisted 
at the ceremony. On the following day, being the 
Feast of St Agatha, the church was opened for public 
worship in the presence of their Lordships, the Bishop 
of Birmingham, the Bishop of Shrewsbury, and the 
Bishop of Clifton. It was naturally an occasion of 
deep and solemn interest to all the Community, but 
to Mother Margaret herself it was overpowering. 
What she felt in it all was the goodness of God to 
His unworthy creatures. " It was no work of mine," 
she said ; " I sat at my desk and wrote my letters aud 
the church rose." And she was heard murmuring 
to herself words that remind us of some of those on 
the dying lips of St Catherine : "Not a bit for self; 
all for the honour and glory of God." 

The same year which had witnessed the opening of 
St Dominic's Church was rendered further memorable 
in our annals by the visits of some illustrious guests. 
The Most Eev. Master-General of the Order made his 
second visitation of the English province in 1863, and 



208 LAST FOUNDA TIONS. 

on the 11th of July he visited St Dominic's Convent, 
in company with the Most Rev. F. Louis Gonin, 
O.S.D., who had just been appointed to the arch- 
bishopric of Trinidad. The Father- General spent 
part of three days at Stone, and expressed himself 
gratified at the progress of the Community, which, at 
his previous visit twelve years before, had numbered 
but twenty-five Religious, occupying the single convent 
of St Catherine's, Clifton, and had now expanded into 
a Congregation, with three convents actually estab- 
lished, and two in course of foundation. 

On leaving Stone, his Paternity proceeded to 
Ireland, visiting the convent at Stoke on his way 
thither, and again on his return passing a day at 
Stone, which he left on the 1st of August. Between 
these two visits the Community had likewise the 
honour of entertaining his Eminence Cardinal Wise- 
man, an event which must be reckoned among the 
pleasurable remembrances of this year. 

This was the last visit which his Eminence ever 
paid to any of our convents. A few months later the 
proposal was communicated in his name to Mother 
Margaret, that she should make a foundation in Lon- 
don, for the purpose of taking charge of a Refuge for 
Females discharged from the prisons. The project led 
to a mature consideration of the question how far 
work of this nature was compatible with the object 
and spirit of the Congregation. The result was that 
Mother Margaret determined on respectfully declin- 
ing the proposal of his Eminence, and the grounds on 
which this determination was based were fully con- 
firmed and approved by the judgment of her ecclesias- 
tical superiors. 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 2 O 9 

It was in the October of 1863 that Mother Mar- 
garet paid her first visit to Rhyl, in North Wales, 
where the prospect of establishing a convent had pre- 
sented itself. She was pleased at the thought of 
working for Wales, and recalled her dream in Belgium, 
often repeating that St Winifred had saved her life, 
and that she was bound to do something to honour 
her in return. 

A house was purchased at Rhyl, in which a small 
Community was established on the 5th of June 1864. 
But the hopes that had been entertained of finding 
an opening there for the labours of the Religious 
proved fallacious, and they were finally withdrawn in 
the August of 1866, when the necessity presented 
itself of providing members for a more important 
foundation in London. Another foundation, begun 
in the same year with that at Rhyl, enjoyed a more 
prosperous destiny. In the spring of 1864, Mother 
Margaret was invited by the Right Rev. Dr Vaughan, 
Bishop of Plymouth, to found a house on some part 
of his diocese, and the village of St Mary Church, 
near Torquay, was proposed as suitable for the estab- 
lishment of an Orphanage for Girls. 

A house, with some ground adjoining, was pur- 
chased at St Mary Church, and six Religious were 
sent to form the little colony in the month of August, 
Mother Margaret herself accompanying them. 

Since that time a beautiful church and presbytery 
have been built on the property of the convent, 
through the munificence of William Chatto, Esq., and 
the erection of conventual buildings has been com- 
menced by the Community at their own expense. 
Attached to the convent is an Orphanage for the 

o 



2 I O LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 

Catholic orphan girls of the diocese, capable of con- 
taining eighty orphans. 

One other event of a joyous and festive nature re- 
mains to be noticed before entering on the narrative 
of that closing period of Mother Margaret's life which 
was so deeply marked with the character of the cross. 
By a Pontifical decree, dated April 13, 1866, the Holy 
Father was pleased to declare St Catherine of Sienna 
Secondary Patroness of the city of Rome. This 
auspicious event was announced to the Order by the 
Master-General in a circular, wherein he likewise 
made known that his Holiness had raised the Feast 
of St Catherine to a higher dignity, and that it would 
henceforth be celebrated in the Order with a Solemn 
Octave. Mother Margaret immediately petitioned 
the Bishop for leave to celebrate a solemn Triduo of 
thanksgiving at St Dominic's, and, permission being 
granted, the Triduo was appointed to take place be- 
tween the Feast of the Stigmas of St Catherine, which 
that year fell on Sunday the 1 7 th of June, and the 
21st of June, the anniversary of the Pope's corona- 
tion. The Triduo (which in reality lasted five days 
instead of three) was a solemn and splendid festival. 
An indult had been obtained from his Holiness, grant- 
ing the same indulgences to those who should 
attend the devotions as had been attached to the 
Triduo celebrated at the Church of the Minerva, in 
Rome. The publication of these indulgences would, 
it was hoped, induce many to attend, and to profit by 
this occasion of approaching the Sacraments. Nor 
was this hope disappointed. Hundreds approached 
the Sacraments, some of whom had for years neglected 
their duties ; and it seemed as though St Catherine 



LAST FOUND A TIONS. 2 1 1 

herself was on earth again, and at her favourite work 
of converting sinners. 

Their Lordships, the Bishops of Birmingham, 
Shrewsbury, and Clifton, assisted at the services of 
the week, together with a large number of clergy, 
both secular and regular. The devotions were opened 
on Sunday the 17th, by a Pontifical High Mass, sung 
by the Bishop of Clifton, and in the afternoon, after 
Vespers, a solemn procession of the relics was made 
round the garden. Throughout the five days the relics 
of St Catherine were exposed on a lofty throne, 
erected in the central aisle, and were likewise offered 
to the people for veneration every evening after the 
Benediction. These relics, which are very consider- 
able in quantity, were presented to our Congregation 
by the Master- General, on occasion of the translation 
of the body of St Catherine from the Rosary Chapel 
of the Church of the Minerva to the High Altar of 
the same church, w^hich took place in 1855; and when 
the cloister of St Dominic's Convent was completed, 
a chapel was built for the express purpose of re- 
ceiving these precious relics, which must ever be 
regarded as one of the great treasures of the Com- 
munity. 

In addition to the devotions specified above, there 
were sermons morning and evening, and afternoon 
catechism for the children — five confessors attending 
in the confessionals until a late hour every night. 
On Thursday, the last of the five days' devotion, 
Pontifical High Mass was sung by the Bishop of the 
diocese, assisted by the Vicar-General and the cathe- 
dral chapter. An additional interest attached to the 
ceremony, from the fact that it was the twentieth 



212 LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 

anniversary of his Lordship's episcopacy, and a spe- 
cial Votive Mass was therefore sung. His Lordship 
preached in the evening on the public life of St 
Catherine, and the Triduo closed with another pro- 
cession of unusual splendour. 

One circumstance connected with this great 
solemnity was equally a cause of surprise and of 
gratitude to Mother Margaret and her Eeligious 
children. The desire which Mother Margaret had 
entertained from the first of establishing in her Com- 
munity the daily recitation of the Divine Office had 
increased rather than diminished with time. 

Before, however, again urging on superiors her re- 
quest for this great privilege, she thought it prudent 
to test the possibility of undertaking so great an ob- 
ligation in a Community devoted to active works by 
a practical experiment. It had long been the custom 
in this Community to recite the Divine Office through- 
out the entire Paschal season, and this year it was 
agreed to continue the longer office* for a given time, 
in order to prove whether or no it could reasonably 
be undertaken. Meanwhile she herself made it the 
subject of earnest prayer, that she might live to see 
the accomplishment of this wish, so dear to her own 
heart and to that of all her children. Her prayers 
were unexpectedly granted, and that by a spontaneous 
act on the part of his Lordship, Bishop Ullathorne, 
who, at the close of the Triduo, announced his con- 
sent for the recitation of the Divine Office by the 
entire Congregation. 

The yearly retreat, which took place in August, 

* The Dominican Office for Matins throughout the Paschal 
season consists of one Nocturn only. 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 2 I 3 

was this year given by Bishop Ullathorne, and was 
entirely based on the teaching of St Catherine. " It 
was like no retreat we ever had before," writes one 
of the Religious, "and made us feel that we never 
before knew the treasure we possess in the writings 
of our holy Mother.'' Others in like manner wrote 
describing it as " a time of great and special grace," 
and " something that would last them for their life- 
time." This spiritual consolation came at a moment 
when Mother Margaret was enduring unusual bodily 
suffering. A severe attack of illness in the spring of this 
year had undermined her general health ; in addition 
to which, the affection of the skin, to which she had 
always been subject, had now reached a height which 
made it all but unbearable. " I often feel ready to 
cry with it," she said \ " it is as if the evil one had 
peppered me from head to foot." Various temporal 
losses sustained at this time by the Community 
affected her but slightly, and in spite of them she 
was meditating a second foundation in Wales. To 
the prudential arguments urged in opposition, she 
only replied, " God has never failed us, and He never 
will. If it were to spend on ourselves that we 
wanted the money I should be afraid, but He knows 
we could not spend less than we do on our food and 
clothing, and that we only want it for His own 
work." 

It was the will of God, however, that not Wales 
but London should be the site of Mother Margaret's 
last foundation. In the month of August 1866, a 
proposal was made by his Grace, Archbishop Manning, 
to place under the care of Mother Margaret and her 
Eeligious an Orphanage, destined for receiving the 



214 LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 

Catholic orphan girls who might be given up by the 
workhouse authorities. He had secured a large house 
at "Walthamstow, in Essex, for the purpose of re- 
ceiving a certain number of the orphans, and this he 
now offered to Mother Margaret, rent free, for three 
years, a certain allowance towards the support of each 
orphan being expected from the Poor-Law Board. 
Mother Margaret was most desirous to meet his 
Grace's wishes, and the work contemplated engaged 
all her sympathies ; she entirely overlooked the fact, 
obvious as it was, that the acceptance of Government 
money necessarily involved the acceptance of Govern- 
ment inspection also : and she therefore willingly 
consented to give the services of her Eeligious on the 
proposed conditions. On the 20th of August, there- 
fore, she went to London, with one companion, to 
inspect the house, and come to a final agreement 
regarding the whole undertaking. After their inter- 
view with his Grace, they proceeded to Walthamstow 
House, a spacious mansion, capable of containing a 
hundred children, with five acres of garden ground. 
Its agreeable aspect, however, did not seem to inspire 
Mother Margaret with any pleasurable sentiments. 
Her drive through the eastern quarters of London had 
impressed her with painful thoughts, and she could 
not bear the idea of being located in a fine house, far 
out of the way of those masses of perishing souls for 
whom she longed to work. She had been told by 
some Protestant ladies that the parish of Stepney was 
one specially remarkable for the spiritual destitution 
of its Catholic population, and though there seemed 
but little chance of its being possible to undertake 
any additional work in that part of the world, she 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 2 I 5 

determined before leaving London, to pay it a visit of 
inspection. In her second interview with the Arch- 
bishop, Mother Margaret gave utterance to her feel- 
ings in her usual simple way. His Grace having 
inquired what she thought of Walthamstow, she 
replied, that it was a beautiful place, and very suitable 
for an Orphanage, and that she and her Sisters would 
be happy to begin there as soon as he wished. " But 
oh, my Lord ! " she added, " can't you send us to 
some dirty place ? " The Archbishop smiled, and hear- 
ing her attraction towards Stepney, advised her to 
go and make the acquaintance of Father M'Quoin of 
Stratford, who was most anxious to find some Com- 
munity to assist him in the infant mission of Bow, a 
quarter of the world which was supposed to possess 
all the required qualifications. To Bow, therefore, 
Mother Margaret and her companion proceeded. 

A boy from the school directed them to Father 
M'Quoin's house, and having delivered the Arch- 
bishop's letter of introduction, they were a little 
surprised to hear him say, on glancing at the name, 
" Mother Margaret ! Oh, I have been thinking of 
you a long time, and wishing you would come to 
Bow ! " He then proposed to take them to the 
school-chapel at Bromley, dedicated to St Agnes, 
after first showing them the rising walls of the church 
at Stratford ; and having inspected the premises at 
Bow, Mother Margaret expressed her willingness to 
come to his assistance, provided a suitable site for a 
convent could be procured. And so she returned to 
Stone, pledged to undertake two foundations involv- 
ing the gravest liabilities, at a time when the finances 
of the Community were more than usually embarrassed. 



2 1 6 LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 

On the 3d of November the first colony of Eeligious 
was sent to take possession of Walthamstow House, 
and begin the necessary preparations for receiving the 
children, and Mother Margaret herself followed three 
days later. She was more than usually depressed 
and anxious. Something of this she always endured 
before beginning any new work, but there are indica- 
tions in her letters of a sense of failing strength, and 
a longing for rest, that was rare for her to express. 
" Pray for me/' she writes ; " you know how dark I 
always am before beginning. I wonder I ever do 
begin ; but it is not I, it is our dear Lord who pushes 
the birch broom along, and does what He wishes. 
It will be nice when all the work here below is done." 
A little later she writes, " I am getting tired of work; " 
and again, " I hope we shall both work on till our 
work is done, and our dear Lord is satisfied with His 
poor creatures ; may He give us a resting-place when 
we have satisfied for all our shortcomings ! " Her 
stay at Walthamstow did not tend to cheer or en- 
courage her. Arrangements had been made for 
receiving one hundred children, but it soon became 
apparent that great difficulties would have to be over- 
come before the Poor-Law authorities would give 
them up. The consequent state of inaction was 
exceedingly trying to Mother Margaret ; she would 
walk about exclaiming, " Oh, if I could but go and 
get the children out of the courts 1 " If the sound of 
wheels was heard in the road, she thought it was a 
conveyance bringing orphans to the door. At last 
she could endure it no longer, and determined on the 
Feast of the Presentation to make a present to Our 
Lady of some children to be supported at the sole 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 2 1 7 

charge of the Community. " No children come yet," 
she writes, " so we intend to take some gratis to offer 
to Our Lady on the Presentation. L. s. d. is certainly 
the god of the English : it does not suit me." She 
therefore entreated the priest to find her some chil- 
dren, and in the afternoon he brought to the house 
two destitute little girls. Her delight was unbounded, 
and turning to one of her Sisters, she said, with a 
bright look, " Now, don't be afraid, you will see our 
Lord will feed His own." About six that evening 
the butcher called at the door with a leg of mutton, 
which, he said, he had orders " only to give to a 
Sister. " The same Eeligious having gone to receive 
it, he said, " Please to open the cloth, and put down 
on a bit of paper that it is all right." When the 
cloth was unfolded, a paper was found fastened to 
the leg of mutton containing a sovereign. Both 
meat and money were carried to Mother Margaret, 
who exclaimed with effusion of heart, " How like 
our good God ! These poor children have procured 
us the first offering we have had since we have been 
here ! " 

But weeks went by and things appeared no nearer 
a settlement ; the small Community remained alone in 
their great house, the very quiet and solitude of the 
situation increasing Mother Margaret's impatience to 
be at work. Moreover she began for the first time to 
realise the necessary sacrifice of independence which 
must follow on her acceptance of Government aid. " I 
am quite unfit," she writes, "to deal with clever worldly 
people. I wish they would leave us alone to work in 
our own way, and not in the way of the Government." 
On the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, how- 



2 I 8 LAST FOUND A TIONS. 

ever, when the Blessed Sacrament was exposed in 
their little chapel, she had what she called " a joy." 
"I had one joy yesterday, I nearly went into an 
ecstasy. We had our Divine Lord quite to ourselves, 
which I was regretting, when about four o'clock nearly 
twenty of the boys from the industrial school came 
in, and sang four or five of Father Faber's hymns. 
It was just our Lord's own. I was delighted, and 
when they went away we gave them some biscuits." 
Her heart warmed towards these poor boys, and she 
often had them up to work at the convent, and showed 
them a rather excessive amount of kindness. One lad 
actually ran away because he had not been chosen for 
the envied office of " scrubbing " at the convent. In 
all Mother Margaret's troubles at this time, one thing 
cheered her, and it was the hope she entertained of 
ere long establishing herself at Bow. " That is the 
place for us," she would say ; " it is really a place 
to save souls in. This place is too grand for us. 
We want poor children, not trees." And then she 
would go into the chapel and spend hours before the 
tabernacle, and would say, " I never prayed so hard 
as I have done here ; I keep saying to Our Lady, 
Give me Boiv, give me Bow." The Religious who were 
with her at this time also speak of her being in the 
chapel long before the usual hour in the morning. 
" At whatever time we might come down," said one, 
" we were sure to find our Mother there. I believe 
she spent half the night before our Lord." 

She returned to Stone at the end of December, 
after an absence of nearly two months, to spend the 
last day of the old year among her children, a year 
which one of them truly characterised as one " of 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 210, 

temporal losses and spiritual gains." Many causes 
had combined to awaken in the Community a great 
and general increase of fervour ; the recitation of the 
Divine office commenced during this year, the un- 
usually valuable retreat which has been already spoken 
of, together with examples and bereavements which 
had found their way to many souls. 

It cannot be doubted that the close of this year, 
and the opening of the next, was a period of extra- 
ordinary spiritual grace to Mother Margaret, and 
that her soul was granted some special preparation 
for the excruciating sufferings which preceded her 
departure from this life. "Pray for me," she writes, 
" for lately there has been a great change in my soul, 
and God seems to require more of me in every way. 
May He perfect me as He best pleases, and give me 
humility, love, and (what will you say to my third 
request V) money, that I may be able to buy souls, to 
build hospitals, schools, churches, — everything that 
will win souls to God." 

It is the custom in the Community, on the 1st ot 
January, for the Religious to draw their patron saints 
for the coming year. On New Year's day, 1867, 
Mother Margaret drew for her patrons the Martyrs 
of Gorcum, Avhose canonisation was fixed to take 
place in the ensuing June, and the practice annexed 
ran as follows: "Prove your love of God by your love 
of suffering. " And as she afterwards observed when 
lying on her sick-bed, everything at that time was con- 
tinually preaching the cross, every book she opened 
seemed to tell her to prepare for the cross and for 
suffering, whilst at the same time both her interior 
trials and her exterior difficulties appeared to increase. 



2 20 LAST FOUND A TIONS. 

A great consolation had been afforded her in the 
autumn of the previous year by the appointment of 
the Eev. Father Procter as chaplain at St Mary 
Church. She felt his presence there a protection 
to the young and distant Community, and had been 
gratified by the hopeful terms in which he ex- 
pressed himself regarding the rising mission in a 
letter written shortly after Christmas. On the 9th 
of January, only a few days after the receipt of this 
letter, the melancholy news was received by telegram 
of the sudden death of the writer, which had taken 
place at St Mary Church on the day previous. The 
telegram arrived in the evening, and early next 
morning Mother Margaret set out for Devonshire, 
performing the long journey in a single day. She 
found the Community in sad trouble, for the unex- 
pected loss of this good pastor seemed to threaten a 
severe check to the work he had so solidly begun. 

Mother Margaret remained at St Mary Church until 
after the funeral, and on the 21st of January returned 
to Stone, where she soon afterwards made a private 
Eetreat of eight days. She appeared to be moved 
by an urgent and unusual longing for this period of 
prayer and solitude, as she said, in order to prepare 
herself for death. Most of her children were far 
from entertaining any apprehensions that the need 
for such a time of preparation was indeed so close at 
hand ; but a few, who watched her more closely, 
were filled with sad misgivings as they beheld a 
change in her appearance, which indicated more than 
passing indisposition. Yet, in spite of her increasing 
infirmity, she not only gave herself no relaxation, but 
imposed on herself many acts of penance, for which 



LAST FO UNDA TIOXS. 2 21 

her strength was quite unequal. Even the ordinary 
prostrations and venias, which occur in the daily 
ceremonies of the choir, could not be performed by 
her without great physical pain and exhaustion, yet 
to the last she persisted in all these observances. Nor 
was this all ; during her Eetreat, which every one 
remarked to have been a season of profound and 
extraordinary recollection, she solicited and obtained 
permission to make a general confession of her whole 
life to her ordinary confessor ; and those only who 
are aware of the anguish which any exercise of self- 
introspection occasioned her, can appreciate the 
distress to which she thus voluntarily submitted for 
her own greater humiliation. 

Meanwhile the arrangements connected with the 
reception of the orphans at Walthamstow were 
beginning to cause many harassing anxieties. 

Mother Margaret had by this time become fully 
aware of the various liabilities incurred by her accept- 
ance of this work, and a correspondence was opened 
with the Archbishop for the purpose of explaining 
her difficulties. As soon as his Grace became aware 
of her feelings, he most kindly consented to set her 
free from the engagement into which she had entered 
without a sufficient comprehension of the conditions 
involved; only requesting that the Sisters would 
remain at Walthamstow until he was in a position 
to place the house in other hands. 

Mother Margaret's joy at finding herself free from 
the burden, which had weighed on her in so distress- 
ing a manner, was unbounded. " Truly," she observed, 
" Almighty God does bring us out of our difficulties 
in a wonderful manner. He knows our simplicity of 



2 2 2 LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 

intention, and that we only sought to serve Him. He 
brings down to the grave, and makes alive again • n 
and a large candle of thanksgiving was immediately 
lighted before Our Lady's image. On the 19th of 
March she left Stone for Walthamstow, where she re- 
mained nearly seven weeks. 

The Forty Hours, and the Christmas Festival, and 
now also Lent, and Passiontide, and Easter, were all 
to go by, and her place in the midst of her children still 
remained empty. Though absent in person, how- 
ever, she was present by letter, and at no period 
of her life is her correspondence so full as during the 
last weeks of her residence at Walthamstow. And 
still through all of them runs one unvarying note : 
the Cross, the Cross! "It is a painful, anxious life," 
she writes ; " and if our dear Lord did not sustain me 
with His all-powerful hand, I should sink under it. 
. . . God is truly founding us in the Cross. . . , He 
has blessed us with many crosses this year ; may He 
be blessed for ever ! . . . "We are children of the 
Cross, conceived and born at the foot of the Cross, 
servants of the Cross by our own free choice. We 
have chosen it for our inheritance ; so we must bear it 
willingly and cheerfully. Pray for our work here : it 
is not yet begun, as we cannot get the children. The 
evil one is very busy, and, like all God's works, it is 
marked with the Cross \ but that, no doubt, is its best 
security. " 

Towards the close of April negotiations were opened 
for the purchase of a piece of ground at Bow, and 
their favourable issue formed the principal intention 
in the devotions offered during the month of May. 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 223 

Mother Margaret had never testified the same ardent 
desire concerning any of her former foundations, but 
her whole heart seemed bent on this, and again we 
find her writing that she can do nothing but go about 
asking Our Lady to give her Bow. She returned 
from Walthamstow to Stone on the 3rd of May, and 
the Fifteen Mysteries of the Eosary began to be re- 
cited, going processionally in the early mornings to 
the Chapel of Our Lady of Victories. On the 11th 
of May she proceeded to Clifton, where another trial 
awaited her in the illness of one of the Eeligious, who 
had to undergo a painful surgical operation. Only 
those who were familiar with Mother Margaret's ex- 
treme tenderness of heart, and her peculiar dread of 
surgical treatment, can realise the distress and anguish 
which she underwent on this occasion. When she 
reached St Mary Church a few days later, the traces 
of what she had gone through were plainly discernible 
on her countenance, and indeed at this time her own 
health was beginning visibly to fail, and her children 
were in constant dread of a recurrence of the danger- 
ous malady which had attacked her in the previous 
spring. At St Mary Church she received one great 
and unexpected consolation. The generous benefactor 
already named made known his intention of building 
the church to be attached to the future convent, and 
this welcome intelligence was communicated to her 
on the Feast of Our Lady, Help of Christians, under 
which title the Convent of St Mary Church is dedicated. 
But the many emotions which Mother Margaret at this 
time underwent greatly shook her failing strength, 
and on reaching Stone her appearance indicated an 
unusual amount of suffering and exhaustion. On the 



224 LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 

eve of Corpus Christi, which that year fell on the 20th 
of June, she found herself obliged to keep her room, 
and to her great regret was unable to take part in the 
preparations for the coming feast. The illness of one 
of her Religious at the same time caused her much 
distress, and increased her own indisposition, so that 
when Sunday came, on which day the great procession 
is annually made at Stone, Mother Margaret could 
only watch it from her window. 

It was about this time that she was one day seized 
with a sharp pain in the left side, which seemed to 
transfix her ; and though the acute paroxysm was for 
the moment relieved, yet the pain in the back and 
side never afterwards left her, and were alleviated by 
no remedies. It was, in fact, the beginning of her 
fatal malady, and during the remainder of the summer 
her health continued visibly to give way. 

By the beginning of October, she became so seriously 
ill as to be obliged to remove to the infirmary, and 
submit to medical treatment ; and during the Rosary 
Week, the w T hole Rosary was offered daily for her re- 
covery. On Rosary Sunday intelligence was received 
that arrangements had at last been made which would 
enable the Community at Walthamstow to remove 
thence to Bow. As possession had not yet been ob- 
tained of the house purchased in the latter place, it 
was resolved to rent another, and to lose no time in 
establishing the Religious in this temporary dwelling. 
A small house was accordingly hired, and this first 
step towards the foundation at Bow filled Mother 
Margaret with such delight that it quite revived her. 
"I do not feel a pain," she said, " when I think of 
Bow. It is a place after my own heart ; and as to the 



LAST FO UNDA TIONS. 225 

rent of the house, the blessed Virgin will be sure to 
pay it." 

On the 2 2d of October she left Stone for London, 
for the purpose of personally superintending the re- 
moval of the Sisters from Walthamstow, and their 
establishment at Bow. At the time when she under- 
took this painful journey, she was struggling with 
severe illness, and was in reality fit only for a sick-bed. 
The transfer of the little Community from Waltham- 
stow to the hired house in Clarendon Terrace was 
accomplished three days later ; and the little chapel 
having been got ready, Mass was said in it for the 
first time, by one of the Dominican Fathers from 
Haverstock Hill, on Sunday the 27th. On this day, 
then, may be said to have commenced the foundation 
at Bow, Mother Margaret's last work on earth, on 
which some special blessing must surely rest, estab- 
lished and cemented as it has been in the Cross. 

Her state of suffering, increased by the fatigues 
unavoidable at such a time, had now attained a 
height which rendered it a matter of doubt how she 
would be able to bear the homeward journey. But 
she revived sufficiently to make the attempt, and 
reached Stone on the 30th, bringing with her a most 
precious relic, which had been presented to the Com- 
munity by J. V. Harting, Esq., namely, the incorrupt 
hand of St Etheldreda, the abbess and foundress of Ely. 
In spite of her pain and weakness Mother Margaret's 
heart was occupied with sanguine hopes regarding 
her new foundation. " I never felt such trust as 
now," she said, " that God would help us. If I had 
the money, I would build a beautiful church at Bow 
directly. It is Our Lady's own place." And on the 

p 



2 26 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

Feast of All Saints, when she saw the church at 
Stone decked for that great solemnity, she re- 
peated more than once that it was like heaven, and 
that a church like that at Bow would convert thou- 
sands.* 

On the 5th of November she assisted at the cloth- 
ing of two novices, the last ceremony of the kind at 
which she w r as ever to be present. She went through 
it with difficulty, owing to the intense pain she was 
then enduring. But by this time she was obliged to 
own herself unable to stand erect, and at the urgent 
solicitation of the Bishop and of the Community, she 
consented to give herself a fortnight's entire rest. 
On the 7th of November, therefore, she took to her 
bed, and from that couch of excruciating suffering she 
was never destined to rise again. 



CHAPTEE XIII. 

HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

The fortnight of rest which Mother Margaret would 
have fain believed was all she required passed away, 
and found her at its close entirely helpless to rise. 

* Since the death of Mother Margaret, her ardent wishes on 
this point have been realised in an unexpected way. A Church, 
which is to be attached to the convent, and dedicated to St 
Catherine of Sienna, is now erected at Bow, by a generous 
benefactress, who, at the time of her undertaking this pious 
work, was wholly unknown to the community. The founda- 
tion-stone of this Church was laid on St Margaret's Day (July 
20, 1869). It was solemnly opened by his Grace Archbishop 
Manning on the Feast of All Saints of the Dominican Order, 
(November 9th, 1870). 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 227 

Only four days after she had taken to her bed the 
bursting of a large lumbar abscess seemed to declare 
the nature of the complaint, and to afford an explana- 
tion of the pain that had gone before. Sanguine 
hopes were therefore entertained that the malady 
might have reached a favourable crisis, which would 
be followed by a recovery of strength; but by the 
end of the month the pain had become more acute, and 
those who had hitherto cherished the most confident 
hopes began to see that her illness, under its most favour- 
able aspect, must be long and tedious, and that there 
was a manifest loss of strength and power, which in- 
creased from day to day. On Advent Sunday, which 
fell on the 1st of December, commenced a Triduo for 
the Holy Father, which had been ordered to be made 
throughout the diocese, and of which we have else- 
where spoken. It did not interfere with the celebra- 
tion of the Forty Hours, which commenced as usual 
on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Mother 
Margaret, who up to this time occupied a room on 
the ground-floor, had to the last indulged the hope 
that she might be wheeled on her sofa to the church, 
and might thus be able to satisfy her devotion. She 
had directed certain alterations to be made in the 
usual decorations, and for some days beforehand spoke 
of her coming visit to the church, and of the pleasure 
she anticipated in once more beholding the beauty of 
the sanctuary. But when the feast came, the attempt 
proved beyond her strength. The usual procession 
at the beginning of the devotion was this year made 
round the cloisters, passing by the door of the room 
which Mother Margaret occupied. The sound of the 
bell indicating the near approach of the Blessed 



2 28 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

Sacrament, quite overcame her, and, to use her own 
expression, she cried, like the blind man in the Gospel 
who sat by the wayside as our Lord passed along, 
" Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me ! " 

At this period of her illness Mother Margaret was 
suffering not merely from bodily pain, but from ex- 
treme desolation of soul. " I could bear all the rest/' 
she sometimes said, " if it were not for this. Even 
Our Lady seems to have forgotten me;" and she would 
add, with tears, " God has done so much for me, and 
I have done nothing for Him in return." At other 
times she said, " I dread looking forward, it seems all 
such a dark void. How often I think of our Lord's 
agony in the garden, and use His words ! I have 
never once asked absolutely to get well, only that God's 
will may be done. It seems such a long, dreary pro- 
spect, but I shall coax our Lord to make it short/ If 
only I knew that I should be saved ! " And this fear 
regarding her ultimate salvation caused her a severe 
interior trial. To her energetic mind the long inac- 
tion was itself a severe penance. "If it were our 
Lord's will to raise me up, and let me work again," 
she one day said, " I should be glad ; but if I am not 
to recover, I would much rather He took me to Him- 
self, than let me lie here like an animal, eating and 
drinking, and thinking of nothing but the body. 
But when I say this, I always add at the end of it, 
i God's will be done ! '" In fact, her most plaintive 
words were ever mingled with expressions of entire 
abandonment to the will of God, and, to use the 
words of the Eeligious who was constantly at her side, 
" her acts of resignation were unceasing, mingled with 
prayers to endure to the end, without offending God." 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH, 2 20, 

Great as were the sufferings of Mother Margaret's 
last illness, they were not, however, unmixed with 
consolations. It may truly be said that God gave 
much in return for all that during life she had given 
to Him. The words had ever been on her lips that 
" He was a grateful lover," and that " He was never 
to be outdone in generosity," and on her sick-bed she 
experienced their truth. The reader may perhaps 
recall one incident of Mother Margaret's early life, 
when, having been left a legacy of considerable amount, 
she expended the whole sum in Masses for the soul of 
her deceased benefactor. Those Masses were repaid 
with interest. During her six months' illness, no 
fewer than eleven Novenas of Masses were either 
offered spontaneously, or procured by friends. Seven- 
teen other Novenas of Masses were at various times 
procured by the Community to be offered for her, of 
which some were said in England, and others at Notre 
Dame des Victoires in Paris, at Our Lady of Assa- 
broeck, at Loretto, and other holy places. Besides 
these Novenas, she had the unspeakable consolation 
and support afforded by a multitude of other Masses 
offered for her almost daily. Three priests, with ex- 
traordinary charity, persevered during the whole of 
her illness in giving her almost every one of their 
Masses not otherwise appropriated by obligation. 
Some offered the Holy Sacrifice for her every other 
day, others again, every week ; and on examining the 
list preserved of these benefactions, we arrive at the 
astonishing conclusion that during the last six months 
of her life she must have had as many as a thousand 
Masses offered for her intention; a very large propor 
tion of which were said gratuitously. 



230 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

Mother Margaret's establishment in the room on 
the ground-floor which she had hitherto occupied, had 
been arranged under the idea, that her imprisonment 
would be of short duration, and that she would be less 
separated from the Community than if removed up- 
stairs. But as all hopes of a speedy cure were now 
relinquished, she began to feel a scruple at not being 
in the infirmary, and became so desirous of removing 
thither, that though fearful of the risk, her children 
could not refuse her. 

An arm-chair was prepared in such a way as to ad- 
mit of her reclining backwards, for she was unable to 
bear the least approach to an erect posture, and on 
the 7th of January she was, with extreme difficulty, 
conveyed up -stairs to the infirmary. 

In spite of the steady and manifest progress of her 
malady, its precise nature remained to the last obscure. 
The seat, however, was evidently in the spine, and 
she often said that her back was breaking. In the 
midst of the most excruciating pain, her countenance 
remained singularly tranquil ; the features were not 
drawn or contracted, so that a casual observer would 
hardly have detected any change. Yet she described 
herself at this time as " lying on a bed of fire." " I 
am a soul in purgatory," she said. " May God help 
and sustain me ! My patience depends more on others 
than myself. It is your prayers that keep me up ; 
my own are worth nothing ; " and to all who visited 
her she addressed the most earnest and touching en- 
treaties that they would pray, pray, pray, that she 
might " persevere to the end, and not lose patience." 
" The last time she was ever moved from her bed to 
the sofa," writes one of her devoted nurses, " she ex- 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 23 I 

pressed a great wish to die, and said, i Oh, when will 
our Lord come for me ! How long I have to wait, 
and then I get so frightened of losing patience, and 
losing Him.' She was reminded that God sent these 
great crosses as a sign of His love. ' Ah, that was to 
the saints/ she replied ; i but they were patient. 
They did not call out as I do ; ; and then, in the midst 
of her sobs and tears, she broke out into exclamations, 
saying, ' But I do love Him ! He knows I love Him ! 
Love, I do love Thee ! I love nobody but Thee ! ' 
She often repeated that she was a sinner, suffering for 
her ' great, great sins/ Her most frequent ejaculations 
were, ' Thy will be done ! ' and ' My God and my all!' 
and she used to tell us that those words were her 
Litany. Sometimes we heard her saying half aloud, 
' A little ease, dear Jesus ! a little ease ! My Lord 
and my God, I unite all my sufferings to those of Thy 
Divine Son ; ' or again, ' My sweet Mother Mary, O 
Divine Mother, my more than Mother, pray for me ! ; " 
" She was grateful for everything that was done for 
her," writes another, " and as simple as a child, but the 
simplicity was of a kind that constantly excited your 
reverence. She blessed God's goodness for everything 
which we gave her. If we gave her part of an orange, she 
would say, ' How good of God to make this orange 
for me ! I have everything He can give. He has 
given me all of you to wait on me. How good He 
is ! ' " Another time, when a Sister gave her a glass 
of water, she heard her murmur, " From His blessed 
Hands ! " and the same Sister observes, " What most 
struck me in her illness, was that she was so exactly 
the same as when in health." No one could fail to 
remark the studied manner in which she sought to teach 



232 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

and to practise detachment. Far from seeking to fix 
the thoughts of those around her on herself, to make 
claims on their sympathy, or to cherish that clinging 
of children to their dying Mother, which would seem 
to some too natural to reprove, it was apparent to all 
that in a thousand nameless ways she was striving to 
loosen the tie, and to prevent the hearts of any from 
being absorbed in herself. Every one observed how 
strict was the guard she kept over herself in this 
matter, not certainly from any want of natural tender- 
ness, for she owned to one who shared her closest 
•confidence, that it cost her no slight effort to avoid 
exciting the sympathy of the Sisters, She was 
afraid of her own natural feelings, no less than 
of theirs ; and when giving leave for any Sister 
to visit her, bid her be told that " she must not 
cry." 

Yet her tenderness of heart was at the same time 
constantly manifesting itself. " My poor children ! " 
she would say, " they are suffering for their Mother ; 
it is a cross to you all, but fiat, fiat " This tenderness 
of heart was also evinced in other ways. She forgot 
no one. If a Eeligious came to see her, she would 
ask after the children, the orphans, the servants in 
the house, or whatever else might fall under that 
Sister's peculiar care. She remembered the absent 
relatives of each one, and sent kind messages to them, 
and would show her usual maternal interest in the 
little affairs or troubles of that large circle outside 
her convent walls who called her " Mother." When 
she heard of the innumerable prayers offered for her 
by priests or other friends, she would reply, " I cannot 
think how they come to remember me. It must be 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 233 

that God has looked on the lowness of His handmaid, 
for He could see nothing viler ! " 

For a short time after the beginning of her illness 
she persevered in reciting the Divine Office, until, 
through the increase of spinal pain, her arms became 
unable to support the weight of the book, and she 
was forced to substitute the little Office of Our Lady, 
which she recited as long as she was able to use a 
book at all. A Religious having one day read her 
the Prayer of St Gertrude, giving thanks for suffer- 
ings, which begins, " most loving Jesus," * &c, she 
said, " You must read this to me every day ; " and her 
request was complied with (though it was difficult to 
read it without tears) until she became too weak to 
listen. " Now," she said, " I must say it in desire. " 
The Rosary was constantly in her hands, and the very 
day before her death she made an effort to say it by 
way of preparation for Holy Communion. She did 
not like any one to sit and watch her, as it hindered 
her freedom for prayer and aspiration. About six 
weeks before her death, being asked what prayers she 
still felt able to say, she replied that she said the 
whole Rosary every morning before Mass, and the 
Litany of Our Lady about twenty times a day. 
" Then I say the Act of Resignation, beginning ' May 
the most just, most holy, and most amiable will of 
God,' I don't know how often. I try to pray all the 
time I am not speaking, but they are odd sort of 
prayers; only 'Our Fathers' and 'Hail Marys,' and I fall 
asleep between." Once she let fall the remark, " Oh, 
praying is like breathing ! " and the Religious to whom 
she spoke, adds, that they knew she was engaged in 
* Prayers of St Gertrude, p. 174. 



234 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEA TH. 

continual prayer by the movement of her hand, which 
she raised a little and let fall again as she made her 
aspirations. 

The beginning of February brought a torturing in- 
crease of pain. Yet all remarked that the countenance 
of the sufferer gave no indication of this ; there was 
no writhing or contortion of the features, only the 
eyes cast up towards heaven, as she uttered brief 
aspirations for " patience to the end." " I can see," 
she one day said, " how God has been preparing my 
soul for all this for the last two years. I felt some- 
thing was coming, and I had such a reluctance to 
suffer ! and yet all the books I read were about suffer- 
ing, and all my prayers were for generosity to suffer. 
I used to be so weary sometimes, and say to myself, 
6 How I long for a holiday ! ' and something always 
seemed to answer, ' God will give it you in His own 
way/ " 

The Catholic congregation of Stone offered a touch- 
ing tribute of their respect for Mother Margaret, by 
begging for a Novena of Masses to be offered on their 
behalf for her recovery • but before the termination 
of the Novena, Mother Margaret's state became so 
critical, that although no immediate danger was appre- 
hended, it was judged prudent to administer the last 
Sacraments. She received the rites of the Church, 
therefore, on the 14th of February, with great peace 
and tranquillity, and perfect possession of mind ; 
humbly begging pardon of all the Religious who were 
assembled round her bed, for any pain or scandal she 
might ever have given them, and answering the usual 
questions proposed by the priest in a tone of intense 
fervour. 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH, 235 

A few days later a letter was received from Rome, 
conveying to Mother Margaret the blessing of the 
Holy Father, which had been obtained for her by 
Monsignor Talbot, immediately on his hearing of her 
illness, and which, when read to her, she desired as 
a mark of veneration to be laid on her head. Other 
letters, also, from the Master-General of the Order, 
brought the consoling promise of Masses to be offered 
up in her behalf at the tomb of St Catherine, together 
with some words of sympathy and encouragement to 
her afflicted children. It was apparent from many 
circumstances that by this time Mother Margaret had 
altogether withdrawn her mind from temporal affairs. 
She appeared to consider the government of the Con- 
gregation as a thing in which she was no longer con- 
cerned, and if consulted on any matter, would show 
an unwillingness to give an opinion which might bind 
those who had to act. To the Religious who had as- 
sisted her for so many years in all the cares of superi- 
ority, she from time to time gave a few simple words 
of counsel, which all spoke the one lesson of God 
alone, "Lean on God alone — God and yourself; that 
is what I have always found. No one else can help 
you. Never decide on things in a hurry. One should 
pray and say the hymns of the Holy Ghost, and then 
God tells you what to do." Once, having referred to 
the many years they had worked together, her com- 
panion replied, "And now, you leave me to work 
alone." " Don't say that," replied Mother Margaret \ 
u see how many you have to help you, compared to 
the little help I had when we began. God will help 
you if you are faithful ; and as to temporals, I don't 
like to hear you make an ' if ' or a ' but ' about them. 



236 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

It is sure to be right. How could you doubt it when 
God has done so much out of nothing % " 

She was now entirely confined to one position, and 
could only relieve the pressure on the back by support- 
ing herself by her arms. This she did by means of 
loops at either side of the bed. During the severe 
paroxysms of pain her hands were extended to grasp 
and hold by these loops, and by degrees this became 
her ordinary position, so that one beheld her day and 
night, lying thus on her back, with her arms extended 
in the form of a cross. Sometimes, when she was 
wearied out and stiffened with cold, she would try 
and bring her arms down ; but she was soon obliged 
to raise them as before, and thus, as one of her attend- 
ants writes, she seemed day and night like a living 
image of the crucifix. Her face began to show signs 
of emaciation, but there was not a line of suffering. 
It constantly wore the same expression of tranquillity, 
except when moved to tears by the sight of the cruci- 
fix, or in what she called "a frenzy of pain." An 
ardent desire to go to God seemed to fill her soul, and 
even to the medical men who attended her she would 
address the plaintive words, "Do let me go to God!" 
If the crucifix was presented to her, she would kiss it 
with abundance of tears, saying, " My sweet Jesus, 
my Beloved, come and take me ; I desire only to be 
united to Thee ! " A picture of Our Lady of Per- 
petual Succour was sent, about this time, by the 
Redemptorist Fathers of Clapham, and being taken to 
her, drew from her some ardent expressions of her 
love for the Blessed Virgin. " I have loved her 
dearly," she repeated. " And have fought her battles 
too, have you not ? " remarked one of the Religious. 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 237 

" I have, indeed," she replied, " and I fear I have 
sometimes committed sin by it." And on other occa- 
sions she also accused herself of the many times she 
had been excited to anger in defence of the Blessed 
Virgin. She often spoke of Bow, the foundation on 
which she had spent her last remains of strength, and 
which lay so close to her heart. " I always think of 
Bow with joy," she said, " and never regret having 
gone there, though I do believe I am suffering for 
that place ; " alluding to the saying in the Community, 
that there was always a victim for each new founda- 
tion. And in the midst of her severest agonies she 
made known her request that the convent should be 
dedicated to St Catherine, and opened on St Cathe- 
rine's Feast, naming all the arrangements which she 
wished to be observed on the occasion. 

During Holy Week it seemed as if our Lord had 
been pleased in a special manner to unite her suffer- 
ings with His own, for her pains were more than 
usually intense. Yet, on Holy Thursday, she was 
able to see and express her approval of some decora- 
tions prepared for the sepulchre, and as one of the 
Religious was leaving her room, in order to take her 
hour of adoration, Mother Margaret looked at her 
rather wistfully, bidding her " say everything to our 
Lord for me ; but," she added, " He is here as well as 
there, that is my comfort." During the night she 
spoke several times of our Lord's agony and betrayal, 
and of all He had suffered for us. No doubt, this 
lover of the Passion of our Lord was able to offer all 
things in union with His bitter sufferings ; and how 
close she kept in spirit to the Cross of Christ was 
manifested by the words she was heard murmuring to 



238 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH, 

herself when Holy Saturday came at last, " How glad 
I am He cannot suffer any more / " 

On Easter Monday she would seem to have thought 
her end approaching, and seeing beside her the Ee- 
ligious who had for years been her chief companion 
and assistant, she attempted to console her, saying, 
" Pray for a happy death for me ; if God is satisfied, 
why should not you be ] I have felt it a great favour 
of God that you were not taken before .me : I was 
getting old, and could not have done without you." 
Then she added, " My prayer has always been that I 
may retain consciousness to the last ; but if I should 
lose it, you know that I have always believed in the 
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and that I die in the 
faith of the Holy Catholic Church." To her con- 
fessor she expressed her thanks for all he had done 
for her soul, promising to pray both for him and for 
the Order. "I have always loved the Order," she 
said 3 " it has been almost an irregular affection with 
me. Not that I cared so much for any individual in 
it, but it is an Order of Saints, and I desired to see it 
flourish. I wish I could have done more for it. I 
would if I could." Then she begged the confessor to 
express to the Father-Provincial her regret if she had 
ever said or done anything to give pain to him or to 
any of the Fathers ; adding, " If I have, it has been 
the head, not the heart, and a warmth of temper I 
could not always control." And then she spoke of 
herself, and the work which God had suffered her to 
do. "I know some people think I have done much 
for God, but I could never see it so. Oh, it is God 
who has done much for me. To me it was all grati- 
fication ! I have had only to ask and have. It is 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEA TH. 239 

wonderful what God has ever done for me in all the 
works I have undertaken for Him. It was too much. 
I always felt there must be some great suffering to fill 
up the measure on the other side/' 

On the 23d of April she spoke much of the arrange- 
ments she wished to be made regarding her burial, 
and being told that the Bishop had already regulated 
that she should be laid in the choir, u Oh ! " she 
exclaimed, "impossible; you would ail be frightened ! n 
Then after a minute she added, " Well, I like it, and 
I don't like it." She concluded by begging that she 
might be laid in the centre of the new cemetery, with 
the cross at her head, and her feet towards the con- 
vent. " Of course I am nothing now," she said, 
" but if I have a wish, it is this, and let it be written 
down in my name ; " and she added more than once, 
that " she was not worthy to be buried in the church." 
The Bishop, to whom the matter was referred for 
decision, overruled the scruples suggested by her 
humility, and decided that her children should have 
the consolation afforded by the hope that their Mother's 
venerated remains would repose among them in the 
choir. 

This conversation took place on the day when a 
solemn Novena to St Catherine was begun in prepara- 
tion for her feast. The effort of speaking so much 
caused Mother Margaret some exhaustion, and so 
marked a change manifested itself in her appearance 
that the priest was called, and gave her the last bless- 
ing. At this very moment the Community were 
beginning their procession round the cloister, bearing 
the relics of St Catherine, and singing the hymns of 
her Office. The distant sound minded with the voice 



240 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH, 

of the priest as he pronounced the prayers and bless- 
ing, and deeply moved those who were present, and 
who almost dreaded lest the Novena now commencing 
should be the immediate preparation for the end. 
The remainder of that evening was spent by all in 
prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, and the following 
morning, the 23d of April, Mother Margaret appeared 
in such imminent danger that all the Religious were 
summoned to her room, where the Litany of the Saints 
was recited by the confessor. By the time he had 
concluded, Mother Margaret had rallied considerably, 
and the curtains at the foot of her bed being with- 
drawn, so that she could see all her children, she 
exerted herself to address them a few parting words. 
" May God bless you all, my dear children," she said ; 
" I beg pardon for all I have ever done to offend you. 
Ask of God the forgiveness of my sins. Sin is an 
awful thing when you come to your last hour. Pray 
for me. It is a terrible thing to fall into the hands 
of the living God. God bless you all, my dear chil- 
dren. Keep close to Almighty God and to your Rule, 
and whatever you do, do all for God alone." During 
the remainder of the day she remained in a w r eak and 
suffering state, with her mind often rambling. She 
once asked that the Litany of Our Lady might be re- 
cited, and at its close made signs for the Sisters in 
attendance to come near, and gave each what she 
used to call her Belgian blessing, making the sign of 
the Cross on their foreheads, and laying her hands on 
their heads. The next day she continued in the same 
state of partial wandering, yet through it all her aspi- 
rations were most moving and devout. Once she was 
heard murmuring, " All bounty, all mercy, all love \ n 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 241 

Another time she seemed offering a long prayer for 
the pardon of sin, and the Eeligious by her side caught 
the words, " my Father, pardon, pardon my many 
great sins ! " And again, " How good God is ! Who 
is like to God ? " Once she missed her crucifix, and 
putting out her hand to feel for it, was heard saying, 
" my crucified Love, where are you ? " and when it 
was put into her hand, " That is right," she said ; " I 
want nothing else." Her thoughts seemed often 
occupied with Bow. "May God bless and prosper 
it," she said ; and sometimes she appeared to be giv- 
ing directions relative to the removal of the Sisters 
into their own house at Bow, and the opening of the 
convent, which had been fixed to take place on the 
Feast of St Catherine. 

The weakness of her faculties was now increasing, 
and of this she herself appeared conscious, saying to 
the Eeligious whom she regarded as her second self, 
" Whilst I have my senses you must be my constant 
counsellor." She often asked those about her to help 
her to prepare for Confession or Communion, and to 
assist her in examining her conscience. " Be sure to 
tell me," she would say, "if you see the least thing in 
me that would detain me from the presence of God." 
The Feast of St Catherine was past, and Our Lady's 
Month of May had begun, and still the long agony 
went on without change or intermission. It seemed 
as if the sufferer's magnificent organisation was hold- 
ing out to its last fibre. Every part of the body had 
to endure its own peculiar torture. The very tongue 
was hard and dry, and furrowed with deep cracks 
from the intensity of the internal fever. On Saturday 
the 2d May, she received Holy Communion, and 

Q 



242 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

afterwards, when the Crucifix was presented to her, 
she made an effort to kiss the Five Wounds, and then 
sank back exhausted, whispering, " I can do no more." 
During the days that followed, her intervals of entire 
consciousness were few, yet, from time to time, amid 
pain and wandering, the words were ever on her lips, 
« The Will of God, the Will of God ! " Her suffer- 
ings were intense, the very feet twitching and con- 
vulsed with the tension of the nerves. On the 6th 
of May, the physician in attendance having visited 
her, she herself asked him how long he thought it 
would last. He told her she was much weaker since 
his last visit, sixteen days before, and that he did not 
think it possible she could survive another sixteen 
days. " Thank God ! " was her reply, and then she 
begged to be left quiet, saying, " Sixteen days is a 
short time, I wish to be alone with God." On the 9th 
of May, she was seized with a paroxysm of pain ex- 
ceeding anything she had yet endured. " God only 
knows what it is," she said. " My back is on fire. 
God's holy will be done. I have not murmured, have 
I?" Hitherto she had always said, " My back will 
break ; " but now she used the words, " My back is 
broken ! " marking some great crisis of the disorder. 
Her exclamations of suffering, however, were all 
mingled with prayers and acts of resignation. At in- 
tervals during the day, she spoke affectionately to all 
around her, expressing the comfort she felt in having 
them near her. She uttered the Holy Name re- 
peatedly ; " God of God, Light of Light," she ex- 
claimed ; " oh, if it would please Him to take me ! 
How happy I was this morning when I thought I was 
going!" Occasionally she whispered, "I am so 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 243 

frightened I " and at one sharp pang, " my dear 
child, pray that my faith may not fail ! " but it was 
noticed that this was the only occasion when she 
seemed to fear the possibility of the last-named temp- 
tation. Her attendants were very desirous of making 
some alteration in the arrangement of the bed, and 
as they were consulting how this should be done, con- 
sidering the impossibility of moving the sufferer, 
Mother Margaret overheard them, and said in an 
emphatic manner, "Now you let it alone ; you can't 
mend it ; leave it all to God, He will mend it — wait 
till Sunday / " Then after a minute or two she re- 
peated, " Leave it to God ! He will put it right on 
Monday t " They thought her wandering at the time, 
but the event seemed to show that she had a fore- 
sight of the time of her death. 

Sunday, the 10th of May, the Feast of St Antoninus 
of Florence, came at last. It was also the Fourth 
Sunday after Easter, and the words of the Gospel 
spoke to the hearts of those who heard them with no 
ordinary power. " I go to Him who sent me ; and 
because I have spoken these things sorrow hath filled 
your hearts. But I tell you the truth ; it is expedient 
for you that I go." Three of the Eeligious remained 
in her room during the night. She breathed with 
difficulty, but was comparatively quiet till about mid- 
night, when, hearing by the sound that the oppression 
of the chest was increased, Mother Assistant came to 
the side of her bed, and observed that her eyes were 
very prominent, as though struggling for breath. 
Some remedies were applied without effect ; she was, 
however, perfectly conscious and recollected, and 
asked if they had not better send for the medical man. 



244 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEA TIL 

But the next moment, sensible herself of the approach 
of the last change, she exclaimed, " The priest, the 
priest ! " and they saw that the end was come at last. 
The chaplain was accordingly summoned, and the 
Community were roused by the fatal death-signal/ 
the dismal sound of which, in the silence of the night, 
struck to their very hearts. In a few minutes all 
were assembled in the sick-chamber. On either side 
of the bed knelt the Superiors of the Community and 
the elder Eeligious, one of whom supported the blessed 
candle in her Mother's dying fingers, a large Crucifix 
being held before her at the foot of the bed. The 
priest knelt at her right hand, and began the commen- 
datory prayers ; the Eeligious answering aloud, their 
voices interrupted by their tears, and their looks fixed 
on the countenance of their dying Mother. She ap- 
peared to retain consciousness to the last moment. The 
last words she was heard to utter were, "Lord, into Thy 
hands I commend my spirit ; " followed by a whispered 
ejaculation of the Holy Name. There was scarcely a 
struggle, only a few sobs and heavings and a gradual 
gentle failure of the breath, which lasted hardly five 
minutes, and then she drew her hand up to her cheek, 
like a child asleep. There were a few deep-drawn 
breaths, and all was over. Her words had been veri- 
fied, for she expired between Sunday and Monday, 
about a quarter after midnight on the 11th of May 
1868. 

Early in the morning, before Prime, the body was 
conveyed to the chapter-room, and the doors of the 

* Notice of any Sister being in her agony is given by a 
particular clapper only used at such times, and during those 
days in Holy Week when the bells are silent. 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH* 245 

chapter-room and choir being thrown open, Mass was 
celebrated for the repose of the departed. The Reli- 
gious watched by the body by turns, reciting the 
Psalter aloud, according to the custom of the Order. 
Towards noon the Bishop arrived, and arranged that 
the funeral should not take place until Thursday, and 
that on Tuesday evening the body should be removed 
from the chapter-room to the nave of the church, that 
the people might have an opportunity of beholding, 
for the last time, the remains of one who had so many 
claims on their affection and respect. During Monday 
and Tuesday the body continued in the chapter-room ; 
every member remained flexible, and the countenance 
lost all appearance of suffering or emaciation, and 
assumed a beauty which rather increased than dimin- 
ished as the hours went by. 

On Tuesday evening the body was carried proces- 
sionally to the church, and deposited on a bier in the 
central aisle, which was arranged as a temporary choir. 
A considerable number of the Catholic congregation 
were assembled to assist at the ceremony ; and the 
Religious having taken their places in the seats pre- 
pared for them, recited aloud the Penitential Psalms, 
and chanted the De, profundis. That night some of 
the patients from St Mary Hospital assisted the 
Religious in watching beside the body, and through- 
out Wednesday the church was visited by hundreds 
of all ranks, who came to touch the body with their 
rosaries, medals, and pious pictures. The Divine 
Office was recited by the Religious in the temporary 
choir which had been formed in the nave, and at seven 
in the evening the Dirge for the Dead was said, the 
Lauds being sung. On this occasion, the church was 



246 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEA TH. 

crowded, most of those present wearing mourning in 
token of their respect, and at the conclusion of the 
service, the body was visited as before by great num- 
bers. 

On Thursday morning the Eequiem Mass com- 
menced at ten o'clock ; from an early hour up to that 
time the church continued to be visited by hundreds 
who came to gaze at the body, and touch it with their 
pictures and rosaries. The features remained un- 
changed in their singular beauty, and the fingers of 
the hands were still perfectly flexible. 

It had been intended that the body should be re- 
moved to the choir before the commencement of the 
Mass, but in order not to disappoint the people this 
arrangement was given up, and it was determined 
that the whole ceremony should proceed in the church, 
where all might satisfy their devotion. The last sad 
ceremony of closing the coffin took place immediately 
before the commencement of the Mass. All the 
Religious who assisted at it pressed a farewell kiss on 
the beloved features of their Mother, which they were 
to behold no more in this world, and fell on their knees 
as the lid was closed, and the coffin covered with a 
white funeral pall. At ten the procession entered the 
church by the cloister door. It included the Chapter 
of Birmingham, who all attended in their canons' 
dress ; the priests of the Conference; nine Dominicans, 
three Benedictines, and one Oratorian Father ; in all 
about forty priests, with his Lordship Bishop Ulla- 
thorne ; the Bight Kev. Dr Amherst, Bishop of 
Northampton, arriving before the conclusion of the 
ceremony. The Mass was sung coram pontifice, the 
Dominican Fathers alone forming the choir, and sing- 



HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 247 

ing the beautiful plain chant Kequiem with singular 
feeling and expression. The Eeligious occupied the 
temporary choir immediately surrounding the body, 
the remainder of the church being filled with a 
densely crowded congregation. The Bishop delivered 
a funeral oration, in which he gave a sketch of Mother 
Margaret's life, dwelling both on her labours of 
charity and on her more interior and spiritual gifts. 
At the conclusion of the sermon, which lasted au 
hour and a half, the ceremony of deposition began. 
The priest, deacon, and subdeacon, attended by the 
fathers who formed the choir, having descended from 
the sanctuary, the procession was formed, eight of the 
Eeligious bearing the body to the choir, preceded by 
the rest of the Community. The procession passed 
up the chancel steps, through the sanctuary, the 
grave containing the leaden coffin having been pre- 
pared just within the choir gates, and immediately 
below the spot where the Eeligious receive Holy 
Communion. The accustomed psalms and anthems 
of the Dominican Office were chanted around the 
grave whilst the wooden coffin was lowered, and the 
beloved remains were laid in their place of repose. 
Thus, like her great patriarch St Dominic, Mother 
Margaret lies "beneath the feet of her children." 
A wooden tablet, inlaid with her monogram, sur- 
rounded by a crown of thorns, marks the spot on 
the choir floor beneath which that great heart has 
been laid to rest ; and it is no little consolation for 
her children, when they assemble before the altar, or 
for the daily office, to feel that their Mother is in the 
midst of them still. May her spirit no less abide 
among them to the end! may a double portion of 



248 HER LAST ILLNESS AND DEA TH. 

that spirit rest on those who are called to fill her 
place and carry on her work, and may one and all of 
the hundred souls whom she trained in religion be 
animated to follow in her footsteps, and to teach the 
lesson expressed in her entire life, " God ALONE, God 
alone, God alone ! " 



THE END. 



